


Black Fallen Angel

by ImUrAngel696



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Crossdressing Harry Potter, Dark Magic, Dark!Harry, Disguise, Elemental Magic, Elves, Explicit Language, Foreign Language, Goblins, Magical Inheritance, Murder, New Family, New School, Romance, Slow Build, Vampires, Veela, Violence, Were-Creatures, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImUrAngel696/pseuds/ImUrAngel696
Summary: Harry is pissed. They sacrificed Sirius. It's time the lies and manipulations came to an end. He'll pit the Light against the Dark and watch them tear each other to pieces. In the mean time, he will become who he was meant to be and make new allies. All while hiding in plain sight. The Dark will pay for the lives they stole. The Light will suffer for their treachery. An Angel will fall from grace and the earth will quake in fear of the coming apocalypse. Only Death is Merciful.





	1. New Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Harry Potter universe. That pleasure belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am simply resposible for the plot and original characters cantained within this fanfiction.

**Chapter 1:**

**New Chapter**

After the Hogwarts Express stopped at platform 9 ¾, after families had joyously reunited, after another school year had ended, most students looked forward to the summer holidays filled with fun. Well, all but one student that is. The platform was almost completely empty when last student, a fifth year, exited the train. He carried no luggage with him, having shrunk and pocketed it before the journey home. He stood at a slight 5’4” with shaggy black hair that hung past his chin, rail thin frame, pale skin and bright green, broken eyes. Eyes that have known pain, felt grief, harbored anger, witnessed death and expressed desperation. Those haunting eyes belonged to one Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, Scion of Dumbledore’s Light campaign and the Ministry of Magick’s Whipping Boy.

Having just finished his fifth year at Hogwarts, he should have been somewhat relieved that the OWLs exams were over and done with and he wouldn’t have face testing like that until Seventh year with the NEWTs. What he wouldn’t give to feel like a normal teenager. But being Harry Potter means having to solve the world’s problems and right now the world’s biggest problem is a self-proclaimed Dark Lord named Voldemort, a halfblooded, snake-faced bastard and his army of Dark pure blood supremacist wizards, witches and dark creatures. Harry knew since he was eleven that he had a target on his back, he was just wasn’t sure why. Every year Voldemort made an appearance and another attempt on his life near the end of the school year. By now, Harry expected it. However this year Voldemort managed to hit Harry harder than before.

Two weeks ago Harry and five other students were lured to the Ministry’s Department of Mysteries under the belief that Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, was being held captive and tortured there. In the Department’s Hall of Prophecy Harry finds a prophecy orb with his own and Voldemort’s name on it. Then the Death Eaters showed up lead by Lucius Malfoy, demanding the orb to be handed over. Having deciphered that it was a trap and the prophecy was the real goal, Harry pocketed the orb, and all hell broke loose. The students lead the Death Eaters on a deadly goose chase through various Halls, before reinforcements in the form of the Order of the Phoenix arrived and a battle resumed in the Death Chamber.

Among the firing of spells Harry sees Sirius dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange when suddenly a stunner knocks Sirius of his feet and sends him flying through the Veil of Souls never to return. Remus was the only thing stopping Harry from following one of few adults that he ever truly trusted and loved. That was when something inside of Harry snapped. He chased after Bellatrix, dueled her and even tried casting the Cruciatis curse in blind anger. Then Voldemort appeared taunting him, mocking his grief. After throwing a few curses, Harry experienced mind blowing pain as he was possessed by Voldemort. Dumbledore chose that moment to come to the rescue, during which battle Harry’s memory of what exactly happened blurred. He could only recall what went on within his own mind as he fought against Voldemort.

When the battle was over, back at Hogwarts everyone was sent to the hospital wing for treatment except Harry, who was the only one to escape the battle unscathed. He followed Dumbledore to his office where his eyes were opened even further to goings on of the Headmaster. Everything came into focus with such clarity. He could recall every encounter he ever had with every magickal being. The amount of smoke that was lies, manipulation and betrayal was enough to choke on. In his turmoil of grief, anger, sadness, pain and betrayal Harry’s magic lashed out in a tornado of anguish, ripping through the room destroying everything, including but not limited to the numerous charmed devices that monitored Harry’s Life force, Magic and all the Blocks on it. In that moment Harry renounced Dumbledore, the Light and their cause. He vowed to fight his way out from under the thumb of control on his life by whatever means necessary.

After running from the office Harry took refuge in the Room of Requirement, where he asked the Room to hide him from the Headmaster and rest of the school. He stayed there for the last two weeks of school, only reappearing for his last exams as required, before avoiding all his friends and their questions, the teachers with their lectures and disappeared back into hiding. When it was time to leave Hogwarts, Harry had all his belongings (brought to him courtesy of the Room) shrunken and in pockets before he sneaked out, passed the mayhem of students and the teachers that were still looking for him, down to Hogsmead Station and onto the Express where he locked and warded a compartment with numerous privacy and avoidance charms.

Now that he was back in England, he had to start putting a few things he needed to do in motion. First things first, he had to silence the muggles. Walking through Kings Cross Station he kept his head down and his body language was sullen and submissive, but his eyes were hard with cold anger and determination. Anyone looking for him, namely the Order, would have seen a depressed teenager. Up ahead near the exit his Uncle Vernon stood with his arms crossed and looking rather irritated with a reddish hue coloring his face. When he spotted his nephew, and his lack of luggage and that blasted owl, he became suspicious.

“Hurry up, boy.” He groused, “I want to get home at a decent hour.”

“Hello, Uncle Vernon.” Harry’s voice was quiet but hard.

“Where is your shit, boy? If I have to go traipsing about looking-”

“Don’t worry about my shit, Uncle. It’s been taken care of. After dinner tonight, I have something to tell everyone. Trust me, you will like what I have to discuss with you.”

Vernon’s interest was piqued. “Humph. Let’s go then.”

Harry smiled secretly. “Yes, Uncle Vernon.” He knew his plan would work; it depended on the infallible arrogance, laziness and greed that his relatives were known for. The hardest part of the plan was a fruition of Harry’s closest guarded secret. For years he had hidden himself behind a mask of the expectations everyone had foisted on him. From a young age he hid his intelligence because he would be punished for getting better scores than Dudley. When he started Hogwarts he continued the trend, at first in order to please his friends. By letting Hermione be the best and being only slightly better than Ron he achieved a balance that kept them content. When he found out in Second year that they were being paid to his friends and keep tabs on him for Dumbledore he let them continue to think that he was oblivious to their spying and lies. After that he watched everyone in the school closely and created his own network of spies. He would often sneak away to study on his own, and in doing so found a hidden love for potions. Tonight he was going use one of the many concoctions that would most likely get him expelled and arrested should he be found with it in his possession.

He also discovered a talent with sharp objects and not just the recognized weapons that could be confiscated. He always carried sharpened quills, and needles hidden in his robes. His other interests revolved around arithmancy, the science of transfiguration, advanced charms, and his favorite: Ancient Runes and Rituals.

He became rather Slytherin in his ways of deceiving the whole school and the wizarding world at the same time. Now he going to put thing in motion and do his Marauder heritage proud by pulling the largest prank ever.

The car ride to Privet Drive was uneventful and as soon as they were in the drive Harry was out of the car and in the house. He didn’t bother going upstairs, there was nothing up there that he needed. He went straight to the kitchen and began to fix dinner for everyone. He had to make everything look like a regular night at the Dursley household before he really set the stage. With a regular meal of meatloaf, potatoes and parsnips and asparagus with a salad and hot rolls, and sweet humming bird cake cooling on the side. Harry took his time setting the table and airing the wine. When it was done, he went over his check list for everything he would need after dinner. With a smirk that he regrettably hid, he called his family to the dining room. He didn’t set with them.

“Alright, boy, what is it you want to talk about?” Vernon grouched from the table.

“What is the occasion for my good wine to be opened?” Asked Petunia

“It’s nothing that can’t wait until after dinner. Please enjoy yourselves and then we can talk and I’ll explain the wine.”

Harry let everyone sit and serve themselves as he stood behind the kitchen counter near the sink with his own plate and wine glass hidden from view. He pretended to be busy with something since he was never allowed to eat with the family. However, he was keenly aware of the clink of glass and the gulping of drinks. It only took ten minute before a boring dinner, became a dramatic affair. And then his smirk became deadly when the sound of choking reached his ears. He looked up to see all three Dursleys were red in the face and in varying positions of distress.

He pulled his plate to him and lifted his glass in a toast and took a healthy drink before tucking in on his hard work. Vernon went from tomato red to a violent shade of purple quickly his breaths getting desperate. Petunia tried to perform the Heimlich maneuver on herself which was rather hilarious to watch. Dudley was on his hands and knees trying force himself to spit up whatever was choking him. All three had ingested the hidden potion that would cause their demise.

It was the liquid form of a blood curdling hex that made the victims organs shut down and the heart explode, it started with choking as blood filled damaged lungs, then things got messy. Intestines and bladders would burst and void as the stomach expelled its contents either outward or inward, both were equally painful. And finally the heart would give one more mighty effort before the victim suddenly spewed blood and bile signally the impending damage to the heart. It was a rather gruesome death made longer by the shear amount of pain inflicted. Harry watched with his head cocked to the side in mild fascination as each Dursley fell dead. In the total twenty-seven minutes it had taken, Harry finished his dinner and desert. He put his now clean dishware away and began to move about the house. He pulled two small soft pouches out of his pocket, set them on the counter and touched them with a concentrated touch of magic that allowed them to enlarge to the size of a pair of human livers. The balloons were filled with Harry’s own blood that he had carefully and slowly donated over the past weeks just for this night. He took one of the pouches to the front hallway. He opened that thrice damned cupboard and stared dispassionately at his own hell hole of ten years. This chapter of his life was over.

He used one of his needles to puncture the balloon and set about laying blood on the walls and the door. Then he put the balloon on the floor to drip for a few seconds before pulling it along the floor of the hall toward the living room. Harry set the balloon in the middle of the floor to drain while he gladly trashed the place upsetting and moving furniture, breaking the vases and hung photos, smashing the prized television and putting a few holes in the drywall. It felt good to get revenge for all the years of abuse and neglect at the hands of these ignorant animals. When Harry finished he was slightly winded and the bag of blood on the floor had left a nice sized pool in Petunia’s precious white carpet. He went back to the kitchen for the second bag and set the first to burn in the sink. The second bag he punctured as well and used it to spray most of the trashed living room. When he was done it truly looked like a murder scene.

The final touch was the Dark Mark he painted with his blood on the wall behind the blood pool. He burnt the second bag then he went through the house one final time and then began looting for money and valuables. When he was satisfied with a job well done, he walked out the front door, left it wide open and walked down the street, closing that chapter of his life forever. There was no turning back now. Harry James Potter was dead. The Light will be tripping over themselves to find him and the Dark might celebrate at first, but suspicion will run high soon about who was responsible . Now it was time to open a new chapter.


	2. The Hidden Ones

Harry had walked over a mile away from Privet Drive before he felt comfortable to flag down the Knight Bus. He already chose his destination from a list of establishments in Diagon Alley that the Room of Requirement provided.

The loud, purple behemoth screeched to a halt on the corner of Waltz and Foxtrot, a young conductor hopped out and was about to give the hole “Welcome…” spiel when Harry cut him off.

“The Hole in The Wall Tavern, please.” He requested firmly.

The conductor frowned but nodded and said, “Right away, Sir. You’ll be our second stop. That will be eight galleons and four knuts.”

Harry passed the money over and then made himself as comfortable as possible. The ride wasn’t long but it wasn’t smooth either. When it was over Harry breathed in relief to be on steady ground again. He was now standing at the lesser known and therefore less traveled part of Diagon Alley. In this area most people appreciated anonymity and left strangers be strangers. Since it was rather late, Harry decided it was best to secure himself a place to stay the night and then look at everything again in the morning and figure out his next step then.

The Hole in The Wall was a quiet and partially hidden tavern. From the street, the entrance went below ground to put you in the bar and dining room, where it was open floor with the bar and kitchens at the western wall. The other walls were dotted with booths and the middle was filled with tables that could seat between two and four people. The decor was a dark chocolate and muted mauve theme that screamed neutrality. Your race, affiliations, and opinions mattered little to any here. If you wanted a room, you needed a key that allowed you passed a set of wards on the stairs at the back wall. And even then that key only allowed you to open the corresponding room. However, to get a key one needed to speak to the owner. The list from the Room of Requirement only listed a last name.

Harry walked past the few night owls that hung around and approached the bar and the man stocking bottles behind it. He was athletic and had a strong build but his detailed features were rather plain making him quite forgettable.

“Excuse me?” Harry called politely. The man turned and met Harry’s eyes with his own soul-searching brown ones. He was probably in his fifties but his eyes were centuries older.

“Yes, can I help you?” His voice was deep but soft, belying his strength.

“I hope so. I would like to rent a room for an uncertain amount of time. I was told to ask for someone named Amunet.”

“My name is Amunet. Rowan Amunet. I’m the bar keeper and Co-owner. If you want a room you’ll need to speak with my wife. Sit down here; I’ll get her from the back.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Rowan nodded and headed through the side door to the back. Harry sat starring at the bar top for only a few minutes before he was rejoined by Rowan and a middle aged woman with copper-brown hair, hazel eyes with laugh lines near the corners and slightly taller than Harry. She carried a thick book to her chest above a rounded pregnant belly. When she saw Harry she paused and a small sad smile came to her kind face.

“Hello dear, I’m Cara Amunet. I hear you’re in need of a room?” her voice was sweet like honey, but Harry got the feeling that while she was kind she could be quite fierce.

“Yes ma’am. I don’t know how long I’ll need it, but I’m willing to pay up front.” Harry was tired, his activities catching up with him.

“It’s alright, young Harry. You would have a place here no matter the payment. Your mother would have my hide if I didn’t help her only son.”

“Y-you knew my mum?

“Yes, thick as thieves in school, we were. I met you when you were only hours old. Lilly and James married right out of Hogwarts and had you. I waited a while longer before I met Rowan here, and we waited longer to start a family. But I remember you; my how you have grown.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Amunet. However, I wish we met on better terms than tonight. I ran away from my guardians so that I might try to find my own path and become the person that I really am.”

Cara and Rowan exchanged a look before Rowan nodded and Cara smiled. “Well then, we’ll help you any way we can. For now that means setting you up with a room. Now, how this works is we keep record of how long you are here and you pay at the end of your stay when you check out. If you need to stay all summer, it’s possible. However, if you’re going to be with us that long, instead of paying in galleons you could pay by taking a job here and work most of your tab off. Have you been to Gringotts yet?”

Harry shook his head.”Not yet, I planned to go there first thing tomorrow.”

“Alright, good. You need to know your financial status before you make too many plans. We’ll set you up with a room tonight. Go see the Goblins in the morning, look at your options, come back and we’ll see about helping you take your next step, whatever or where ever that may be.”

“Sounds good. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Amunet, I really appreciate your help and hospitality.”

“Now, now none of this Mr and Mrs bullocks.” Rowan laughed. “Call us Rowan and Cara.”

Harry nodded, slightly bemused by this turn around. He just committed acts worthy of hell, and yet angels held their hands out offering assistance. It was rather humbling.

“I’ll get you a key dear and then I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” She ran through the door she came through and then promptly returned with a black key that was probably as long as her palm was wide and it hung from a small 16” chain. “I’ll need a drop of blood to bond the key to you temporarily so that it can’t be lost or stolen. You’ll find that is what allows our patrons to pass to the upper floors however they only open their corresponding rooms and the doors within them. While you are here your magic is under a cloaking ward, the ministry tracer on your wand that allows the Aurors to pinpoint your magical signature is blocked. When you leave anyone could find you.”

Harry pulled out one of his many needles and pricked his thumb allowing a drop to fall on the key. The key glowed dull red before Cara handed it to him. “So what do I do about the trace on my wand?”

“I’ll brew a potion tonight.”Rowan said. “It will nullify the tracer temporarily, long enough for you to finish your business and buy a new wand. Since your famous your current wand is too recognizable, you may also find that your magic has out grown your core.”

“I was hoping I didn’t have to , but I suppose it needs done sooner rather than later”

“Just let me know when you’re ready. I’ll take you to a friend of mine”

Cara came around the bar and wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Don’t worry kiddo. If you let us, we’ll gladly help you.” Harry nodded gratefully. “I’ll show you to your room, while Rowan closes the kitchen and bar.”

“Goodnight Harry, pleasant dreams.”

“Thanks M- Rowan.”

Cara lead him up the stairs passed a ward that made his skin tingle to the first floor and to the very end of the hall. There was a door on his left and right but Cara still face the wall. “The Hidden,” Cara whispered. The wall that Harry thought was the end of the building opened with a shimmer of the door’s seam and then swung inward. Cara stepped to the side. “This is one of our secret rooms. We call them Holes, when the door swings shut it blends into the wall. It’s why we named the tavern. Each Hole is where only us, the owners, can find unless the room is yours. Your key not only allows you passed the stairs but it nullifies the secret keeping wards around your door, don’t lose it. The password is 'Obscure'. I’ll let you get settled in, I have a feeling you’ll be with us for a while. Goodnight Harry”

“Thank you Cara. This means a lot to me”

Cara smiled and nodded and left him at his door.

Inside Harry found not a room but a whole apartment. He entered between the kitchen and sitting room. The floors were aged mahogany with soft baby blue area rugs in both rooms. The walls had been done the same blue but with black accent near the ceiling. A black leather sofa, armchair, and ottoman sat on the large area rug with a low mahogany coffee table. In the kitchen, the walls were black with sky blue accents and dark grey cabinets. All the fixtures complimented the theme, even the black marble counters and the single-seating table. A hall way lead away from the sitting room and gave way to three doors. A linen closet, fully stocked with fluffy towels and flannels. A full bathroom with dark gray marble floor, blue walls, a black sunken bathtub, glass-encased black tile shower, black marble sink and of course a black toilet. Finally the bedroom was done almost completely black, the soft rug was midnight blue and some of the pillows were blue silk but the majority of them and the sheets were black silk, the duvet was thick and warm and even bed curtains and canopy were black. The dresser and side tables were mahogany and another door lead to a walk-in closet. The dark décor made it feel like the perfect place to hide from the world and decompress.

Harry sat on the soft queen sized bed and sighed at the comfort of sinking into the bedding. Here starts his new path and tomorrow he was going to take the first step. He just hoped that he liked what he was walking towards. He stood again and started pulling his truck and Hedwig’s cage from his pockets the cage he put on the dresser and enlarged for his owl when she returned from a mission he sent her on before he left Hogwarts. The trunk was set at the end of the bed and enlarged as well before he opened it. He pulled the stolen items from the Dursley's and wrapped them in a school cloak and buried them in the trunk. Then he stripped down to his boxers for bed. Too tired to wash the blood off, he fell into bed, doused the lights with a quiet "Nox", and fell asleep on top the duvet almost instantly.

The next morning brought a down pour complete with thunder and the possibilities of a clean slate. All the blood and misery from yesterday were washed away in the rain and Harry's’ morning shower. Today was the beginning of a new life. After performing all his morning ablutions he stood before the mirror in a loose dove grey poets tunic, black leather pants that fit his hips like a glove and dragon hide boots with a steel toe and heel. He focused his magic in to his hands and slowly ran them through his hair causing it to bleed to brown. He held his hands over eyes and focused on a hazel color. The only thing left that identified him as Harry Potter was his famous scar. He was prepared for this though. Since no concealment charms work on his scar he decided to try a muggle means of concealment. That’s right; he was going to try make-up. The liquid went on and blended perfectly. As long as no one looked too close they wouldn’t notice anything. Harry smirked at his reflection.

He grabbed a dark grey cloak to wrap around himself and made sure that his wand and a few sharp objects were well hidden before he left his room. As soon he shut the door behind him it merged with the wall seamlessly. It was quiet in the hallway but that changed when he reached the communal area of the Inn. A cacophony of indiscernible low chatter filled the dining area where people were scattered about from the open floor dotted with small tables to the semi-private booths lining two walls. There were very few people sitting at the bar where Harry could see Rowan talking to one of the patrons. There was muffled clatter of cutlery, glasses and dishes that came from the kitchen directed by one female voice that Harry could only assume was Carra. Rowan looked toward him, smiled and waved him over to the corner of the bar. No one even glanced at him when he crossed the floor. It felt good to be anonymous.

“Nice glamour, kid. A bit rough in the technique but simple enough that no one should bother to look closer.”

“Thanks.” Harry said.

“It will get you where you’re going at least. They should be able to help you figure something else out. When you finish your business, go to this address. Ask for Elfie, tell her that the hidden sent you. She’ll help you out.”

“Who is she?”

“A friend,” Rowan smirked. “If I’m right about where your future is headed then you will need her expertise. “ He pulled a vile of blue potion from his pocket. “Let me see your wand, you can keep it, just hold it from the other end. This potion will temporarily nullify the underage tracer on your wand until you can buy a new one. Ask those goblins if they recommend someone that can turn a blind eye and hold their tongue.” The potion dripped onto the handle of Harry's wand without difficulty and without much fanfare. Just a couple drops and done.

“Now you best get going. Stay out there and put your new self together and don’t come back until you feel like the real you. If you’re back by eight Carra will be expecting you in the kitchen so that you can help with the dinner rush. Be careful and stay safe.” Rowan said and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. It grounded him steadfast and he suddenly felt that without a doubt that he was on the right track. Harry nodded and headed toward the door, eager to shed his skin and the fame it came with; ready start the transformation.


	3. Goblins

Few people braved the rain which meant the crowds were thin enough to walk comfortably but that also meant there was no coverage from possible pursuers. He couldn’t waste time in the open. He didn’t rush it, just a brisk walk of a man out on business. The marble steps of Gringotts came into view just as he noticed Auror Tonks walking along the other side of the alley. He squared his shoulders and kept his eyes forward and pretended he didn’t notice her. Thankfully he made it up the front steps and inside without incident. He took a breath and pushed his hood back as he stepped up to a goblin he recognized.

“Good day, Griphook. I hope I find you in good health and better wealth.”

Griphook raised a brow above his glasses as a cruel smile twisted his lips. “There is only one human who knows how to properly greet a Goblin. What can I do for you Avis?”

Harry smiled at the name given to him by the goblins. It meant ‘refuge in war’ in their tongue and if he came to any Goblin he would have their assistance. “I need to see Lockheart immediately. To prove it's me, tell him: The raven flies high.”

Griphook didn’t have to ask what the code meant, he could guess well enough that the light was about to lose a major key player in the war. “Wait here.” He walked away from the teller booth and down a long hallway. When he returned, he was smirking. “He says “It’s about damn time” and that you may join him in his office. You know the way Avis, good riches be yours”

“My riches are your riches my friend, thank you.”

Down the hall at the very end behind a heavy door, was the office of Potter Family Account Manager Lockheart. He was a very old and respected member of the Clans and a very serious businessman. When it came to Harry and his situation with Dumbledore and the Light and everything surrounding the manipulations surrounding Harry, he was very aware and very pissed off. The young wizard did not deserve the treatment he was receiving from everyone. Hell, they should be treating him like royalty for saving their world from a psychopath, but instead a puppet master put him away and tries to turn him into a weapon or a mindless lamb meant for slaughter. The year Sirius Black that broke out of Azkaban, the boy came to Gringotts and began asking all the right questions. That’s when Lockheart meat the young Potter heir and informed him of his family’s legacy and they discussed his current family situation and how to rectify it. Over time the plans evolved according to new information and game-changers as they were introduced. After last year and the fiasco of that thrice damned tournament, Lockheart started setting up a new life for the boy. It was mostly done he was just waiting for him to make a move, and when he did he was supposed to tell him an activation phrase that would start the process. Now that he was here it was just a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

The heavy door opened emitting a young man with hazel eyes and brown hair, but as soon as the door shut the glamour was dropped and there stood the jet black locks and emerald eyes of the only wizard friend of the Goblin Nation. The young tired face smiled slightly. “’About damn time”? Really? Hello to you too my friend.”

Lockheart smiled and waved him to a chair. “Yes really, Avis. It is past time we took action and put plans into motion for your safety and survival. Anymore stunts like last year and you’ll end up dead before the war begins” That was when Lockheart noticed the pain in Harry’s expression. “Oh no. What happened now?”

“Sirius is dead.” Harry told him everything that happened from Umbridge’s invasion, the detentions, the visions, the battle at the Ministry and how Sirius died, sacrificed by the Light for The Greater Good, even how he destroyed Dumbledore’s office with his magic. “And now his is not the only blood I have on my hands.” And he confessed to what he did to the Dursleys. “I have been forced to spill blood, though it may not be innocent. This is what the stresses of living under the Light and running from the Dark have brought me too. I'm beyond wanting compensation and I have no forgiveness left in me. I require blood, owed to me for the blood spilled in my name by those who would betray me. Blood owed for their crimes against the Laws of Magic herself. However, I need training if I am to seek what is owed.” Harry was practically growling with anger.

Lockheart listened without judgment. When Harry finished he simply pulled open a drawer, removed a file and laid it on his desk.

“I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but neither am I surprised. I knew you would need a second chance, a better chance, I just wasn’t sure why. This doesn’t change what I put into place for you, it simply gives us a different reason. Since you essentially ‘killed’ Harry Potter but there was no body found, all your accounts will be seen as frozen for two weeks to anyone that asks due to your death being in question. However, after we are through here today, your magical core will no longer identify you as Harry Potter. Which gives us the opportunity to bequeath your wealth to your 'next of kin', your new identity. Everything in this file is proof of your new existence, my friend.”

“Leave it you, Lockheart, to prepare my life after my death.” Harry smirked.

“Indeed.” The Goblin smiled cruelly. “I have a new birth certificate, identification in both magical and muggle papers, background check, medical history, education history and a list of home addresses. Your name is Gabriel Scelestus Black from the Ancient and Noble House of Black of the Roman branch. Your parents were Maksim and Cora Black. You were home schooled until recently when your mother died of illness and your father followed of a broken heart. Education wise you were top of your class and have lived in Rome, Italy, Greece and recently France. You are in Great Britain at the summons of Gringotts Lawyers for the reading of Mr. Potter's Living Will.

Before you leave, I will help with a couple rituals I prearranged for you. One will make your story your history. Meaning, you will know the languages of the nations you lived in, you will have an increase of knowledge that is better that most students older than you according to the new curriculum of the school you will be attending-“

“Wait a minute. What school are you sending me to?”

“You will be joining Mount Olympus Academy of Mages in Greece. This school is nothing like Hogwarts, Avis. It’s curriculum covers only advanced branches of magic including elemental, dark arts, necromancy, demonology, Animagus training, battle magic, healing, warding, blood magic and all mandatory courses for NEWTS students. They teach you to heal yourself in case of accidents. You only go to the infirmary if it’s fatal. Students have been known to kill each other, teachers have been known to kill students, “accidents” can and will happen at this school. But, if you’re willing to do whatever is necessary to survive, it will prepare you. This year you turn sixteen, which is also the age that they accept new students. It’s before your magical inheritance hits at seventeen that way they have the opportunity to fine tune you abilities so that you can handle you new magic. They only take the most exceptional students, and you are exceptional to say the least. This brings me back to my earlier topic.

“The second ritual we will perform will test you for possible magical talents and abilities, that way you know what training to sign up for and what you can expect of you magical inheritance.”

Harry sat there staring at the Goblin for a few minutes. He couldn’t find any fault in the plans. He knew he needed training and if this was his best option then he’d take it. It was better than sitting in England waiting for Death eaters or the Order to catch up to him. “When do I start at Mount Olympus?”

“The beginning of term starts September tenth. However, the school has year-round boarding with short holiday breaks and only a month for summer. You will leave a week early so that they can place you in the dorm and you have the chance to settle in.”

“Alright. Anything else I should know about this place?”

“One other thing; it teaches not just humans but other species, including but not limited to vampires, werewolves, veela, fae and other creatures. Most of which will be out for your blood simply because you are human and in the minority of the student population.”

“Great.” Harry’s head spun with all the information. “Never let it be said I didn’t like a challenge.”

“That’s the attitude. Now I suggest we get started on those rituals. After which you still have a lot to do in the Alleys.”

“About that; I’m staying at The Hole in The Wall owned by the Amunets. Rowan Amunet told me I should go see someone by the name of Elfie. He gave me the address but I don’t know the area enough to find it. I'll also need a new wand, preferably from a lesser known source. Could you possibly find it in your heart to help a rogue on the run?”

Lockheart folded his arms over his chest and chuckled. “You remind me so much of your Godfather and your Grandfather, Charlus Potter. After we finish with our business I will give you directions. Madam Elfie is the best Outfitter in the British Isles and you can only do business with her if you have been referred by a current customer. It’s fortunate that you’re staying where you are. The Amunets are a very honorable Clan. Their very name means “the hidden ones”. They would help you simply because you desire to hide, but they will also help one to further their goals if they can. Anywhere else and you would have someone keeping tabs on you, I guarantee it. As for the wand; We have a Wand Crafter on staff. He's fae, so he has the knowledge and access to different, higher quality materials. After your core settles, I'll take you to his domain here. ”

After their conversation, Lockheart took him down a back hall that was dotted with heavy doors. One of these doors would be the ritual room where he go through some serious changes. They discussed the possibilities of a permanent disguise and decided on a third ritual that would change his genetics and therefore his appearance. The first ritual would increase his knowledge and linguistic skills. That only required compiling the needed information and slowly feeding it to his brain so that it didn’t overload his occlumency shields. Despite Snapes’ “teachings”, Harry had actually mastered the technique and was working on the sister branch Legilimency. The second ritual had to be the disguise because changing his blood would change his magic and any possible abilities he could stand to gain or lose. The last ritual would analyze his body and magic to better understand what he could be capable of in terms of physical and magical strength and prowess.

After the rigorous expenditure of magic mixed with a little blood Harry, now Gabriel, woke up on a cot in a darkened stone room lit only with a small red lantern. He remembered hearing Gobbledegook chanting and feeling his magic searing white hot in his veins as his body contorted in the center of a ruin circle painted with the blood that was to be added to his own. That was the last he knew before becoming unconscious.

“Don’t worry, Avis. You weren’t out too long, maybe thirty minutes. It’s still early enough to be considered morning.” Lockheart came in holding a tray laden with a light meal. He seemed rather pleased with something.

“Hello Lockheart. What has you so cheerful?”

“You did very well considering all the magic you were subjected to. You fell unconscious after the second ritual; however, we were still able to proceed with the analysis of your mind, body and magic. You should be made aware of the fact there were tracers on yourself and your wand that were dealt with. Before I show you the results I think you need to see something first”

Lockheart conjured a mirror that stood against the wall opposite from the bed. That is when Harry saw his new self. Long, thick, jet-black hair that laid smooth and waved the center of his back. Almond shaped dark amethyst eyes set in a pale, high-cheeked face, complete with a straight nose and full, pink cupids-bow lips. He grew about an inch taller and he filled out a bit until he stood nearly 5’8” with an androgynous hourglass shape to his form. If he tried hard enough he could almost be mistaken for a young woman. The best part however, was that he could hardly see his scar at all. Gabriel's new face began to slowly spread into a grin and his eyes gained a distant sheen.

Lockheart's head tilted to the side with curiosity and raised a brow. “ Your face may have changed but I still know that expression. You have an idea.”

“Damn right I do,” Gabriel laughed. “What would you say if I suddenly started wearing skirts?”

Lockheart's jaw dropped in surprise before he regained control of himself. He looked Gabriel up and down and hummed. “I'd say that you now have the hips for it. Why?”

“The Ministry and the Order are looking for a teenage boy-who-lived, not a young woman. With my new body it wouldn't be hard to adjust to a new wardrobe. Besides I always held a slight fascination for the taboo practice known by both wizards and muggles as cross dressing. I never had the freedom to be myself. Now I have the chance to be the real me, maybe this is part of who I want to be.”

“You had me at 'taboo'. If it's considered abnormal or borderline illegal chances are we Goblins will not only approve but help you cover your tracks.” Lockheart smirked. “Hopefully this will only enable you hide better. Now do you want to see the results of your magical tests?”

“I'm prepared, let's have it.”

“Don't get so excited, please. I may have to sedate you.” He pulled a scroll of parchment from his inner pockets and unrolled it it was nearly over a foot long. “ According to our scans after the main rituals were completed your biological magic not only strengthened but it accepted the foreign magic from the donated blood. In other words your magic no longer registers as being of the Potter lineage. You are now higher in the family tree as a second or third cousin by marriage. Which will come in handy when you access your vaults here. As a matter of fact, the particular strand of blood that we used was donated by a member of the Roman Blacks with a history of creature inheritance known as Fallen Angels. They were called such due to their characteristic black wings resembling the biblical version of fallen angels. They are simply a family of the same species of Angel with a genetic mutation that gives their features a black pigment. Your new magical core also comes with access to new branches of magic specific to the Roman Black's. For example you now have the ability to perform necropolitan magics, such as lower summons'.”

“ I can perform necromancy now?”

“Not quite. Necropolitan magics are a step below necromancy, but it take no less control to perform. It's more like thinning the Veil between worlds, rather than opening it wide. You also acquired a great amount of strengthened talent for blood magic. With the blood magic comes an affinity for healing and water elemental magics.”

“How so? I don't see how their connected.”

“Think about it, Avis. Every living organism has a certain percentage of water. With training you can learn to manipulate the water and/or blood within them and you may even gain the proficiency to control your own blood. As for healing, blood magic can be used to stimulate tissue cells to heal at a faster rate. Both talents would make you a formidable opponent. It stands to reason that if you know how to heal then you know how to do harm.”

“I see.”

“You have gained a heightened affinity for Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, Arithmacy, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration, Battle Magics/ Strategy, and Magi-zoology. I assume the last mentioned has to do with your retaining of the ability of Parseltongue. Should you prove proficient in any of these subjects, you would gain the attention of quite a few people, friend and foe alike, people with connections. You'll have to walk a careful balance, Avis.”

“Maybe that's a good thing. I'm not Harry Potter anymore. Any attention I gain would be for my own talents and strengths. I can work to make the right connections. I can let them see me but that doesn't mean they get to see behind the new mask. I am now Gabriel Scelestus Black, The Heir of The Ancient and Noble House of Black, British and Roman Branches, I have no reason to hide. The forces of Light and Dark magic shall tremble before me for their wrong doings against The All-Mother and The All-Father of Magic as I claim my heritage as a Black Fallen Angel. Unus Mortuus et Clemens.” Amethyst swirls of electricity surrounded Gabriel and his eyes glowed with a vengeance that promised no mercy.

Lockheart suddenly felt that he was witnessing the coming of Heaven or Hell on Earth and this powerful, beautiful being in front of him was the only one to decide which would occur. “I'll arrange your registration to the school. I'm sure the headmistress will accept the late application. You have an appointment with our Wand Crafter before you leave us. I hope you will always remember that you always have friends in the Goblin Nation and here at Gringotts, Avis.”


	4. Contradiction

Lockheart had one of his assistants guide the newly named Gabriel Black a few levels down into the fortress of a bank. It wasn't low enough to find vaults, but it was close. The stone walls were rougher and slightly uneven in their texture. Definitely not the opulence of the Main Hall of the upper levels. The goblin that he followed turned down a short, dark hallway with a ceiling so low that Gabriel could almost touch the moist stone to feel the moss that dotted little areas. At the end of the passage was a thick wooden door with brass fastenings and handle. There was a soft yellow glow coming from under the door and there was the scent of burning pine in the air.

The goblin stopped and turned his back on the door to look at Gabriel. “This is were you continue on your own, Avis. I shall wait at the end of the passage for you. Master Taite is expecting you, and has no other prior engagements. So you may take all the time you need.”

“Thank you for your time and assistance, Master Goblin. I hope not to take too long, as I know you are very busy. Health and wealth be yours this day, good sir. Please, excuse me.”

The goblin nodded and left Gabriel standing there alone. Gabriel took a breath and knocked twice on the heavy wood. A deep, accented, male voice called out. “Enter.” Gabriel grasped the brass handle and pulled, the door swung with a quiet creak as he admitted himself to the lit chamber beyond. More of that burning pine wafted around him, headier yet soothing. The floor gave way from chiseled stone, to beaten earth that was softer under his weight. The magic in the large chamber felt soothing in an ebb and flow of pulsing tides like he felt in the rhythm of a forest. The yellow glow of his surrounding came from a small bonfire dancing in a ring of river bed stones the size of Gabriel's head. Beyond the fire there stood an Elder tree sapling tall and proud with room still to grow. Lining the curved walls were shelves upon shelves of various artifacts from books to jars filled with different objects, and little boxes filled with glittering gems to free standing statuettes that enraptured the imagination.

Odd footsteps caught Gabriel's attention and drew his gaze to the right side of the chamber where there was a chest level workbench and high stool. But the awe-inspiring being that stood behind the bench was nothing if not an imposing sight. He was almost six feet tall with a wide bare chest dusted with the same thick, curly red-brown hair on his head. Strong, corded muscled arms, washboard abs and the oddest walking gait, Gabriel had seen. His distinguished face was handsome in it's own right; a square jaw with a goatee, thin lips and a straight, narrow nose and pointed ears that twitched independently. His forehead was ridged were there might have been eyebrows, above the deepest sea-blue eyes rimmed with coal. The small antlers that sprouted from either side of his outer brow line looked jagged and sharp.

That swing-shift gait brought the focus lower as this herald of wild earthly magic stepped forward from his work space. Revealing his lower body to resemble the hind legs of a goat. Albeit a very powerfully built goat, with that dark red-brown coat repeating downward to grow loose and long around cloven hooves. His modesty was preserved with a strip of green linen belted around his hips. He was certainly fae, specifically a satyr; a child of The All-Father and All-Mother and imbued with their magics. To say he was intimidating was an injustice.

Gabriel managed to shake himself from his impolite staring enough to remember his manners, and bowed to this immortal being. A deep rumbling emitted from that large chest. He was chuckling.

“Well, this is a surprise. For five minuscule years, I have heard the rumors of a human with enough intelligence and kindness to earn the respect and, dare I say it, friendship of these greedy cave dwellers, along with a select few other races. Here I was expecting some old, gray sage, preaching his gospel. Come to find, a child, not yet mature enough for mating. Oh, but not simply any child. One that is favored by Hecate herself. Yes the Goddess of Witchcraft watches over you closely young one. Come closer, young one. Let me see the one so favored.”

Gabriel moved away from the door to walk to the right of the fire ring, cautious with every step. He kept his empty hands in plain view and his eyes averted to the left of the satyr's gaze. “ What do they call you, young one?” His voice reverberated in Gabriel's chest at this close position.

Gabriel's amethyst eyes lifted to meet sea-blue. “I am called many things, Master Taite. The Goblin Nation and a few other races refer to me as Avis and Friend. I have been called The-Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, Scion of the Light, and Defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort. I was known as Harry Potter. From this day forward I wish to be called Gabriel Scelestus Black.”

“Those are some heavy titles, Child.”

"Most of which I didn't agree to, I assure you, Master Taite.”

“And yet the title of Friend to the Goblins has earned you an audience with this humble craftsman.”

“I simply asked for the best Crafter. I was given your name. If I am inconveniencing you, then I shall not outstay my welcome.”

“ Why would you require a weapon from my hand? Surely, a human can find what they need in more common circles.”

“Any human could find what I require in the widely traveled and non-private squalor that is Diagon; you are correct. However, I am no mere human,” Gabriel allowed a drop of magic to seep into his eyes causing them to glow. “ and I asked for the best, because I won't be pitted against simple humans in the near future. I plan to level and rebuild this hypocrisy of a Nation one moron of a wizard at a time if I must. But, first, I require the tools if I'm going to chisel away the mountain of imbeciles.”

Master Taite crossed his massive arms over his broad chest,causing the muscles to pull tight and bulge. “Lockheart said you needed a custom wand with possibly a focus for your magic. Let me examine your current wand.”

Gabriel willingly handed the wand over, grip first. Taite took it between his forefinger and thumb, looked down the length, scratched the grain, and balanced it on the tip of his finger. “Rather odd combination for a wand. The length at eleven inches is not that unusual. The holly wood is deeply associated with the wizards perceptions of Light magic. What is the core? I'm sensing an attachment in the core's magic.”

“Tail feather of a phoenix that gave another feather for a separate wand made with yew wood.”

“I won't ask what moron deigned these wands to be acceptable. Brother wands should not exist, except rarely in twins. What we have here is one wand entrenched in Light with very little capability for much else and it's opposite is composed of a pure magical core that is poisoned by the dark wood encasing it. Pitted against each other, they will refuse to fight. If forced to fight, the consequences can be fatal. The yew wand is too contradictory to have much strength, it will actually siphon off the users magic and weaken it. This wand is too Light, there's not enough balance in it for it to be used as a sword, just simply a shield. There's no doubt in my mind that these wands were orchestrated, commissioned to do someone's bidding, though I couldn't say whom or why.”

Gabriel's eyes got distant as he thought on this new information. It was another piece to the puzzle that just confirmed some of his theories concerning Dumbledore's preparations for his training.

“Furthermore, Your core may have fitted this wand at one time, but your core has outgrown the magical capabilities of this wand. Lockheart was right, you need a custom weapon worthy of a Mage if he really plans to send you to Olympus. Yes, he informed me of your plans.” He strode toward the shelves containing samples of magical properties animal, mineral, and herbal alike. “You need to choose the properties of your wand. Start at the far left end and slowly feel your way down the wall. Take your time to examine whatever reaches out to your magic, make sure it feels right. There's no limit on the ingredients and there's no rush.”

So Gabriel started the long process of choosing his wand properties. Ten minutes in, and he's only five feet down the row of shelves, but he did find two woods that felt right. It took longer, twenty damn feet longer, to find a long iridescent silver-white feather that felt so pure he was half afraid to touch it less he tarnish it. He soon found a blacker than black, curved talon of some predator that looked like it was made of smooth lava stone. The gems surprised him because he didn't think he would require one, but his magic still pulled him down the shelf of gems. They sorted into medium sized wooden boxes by color. He ever thought he would see a magical rainbow, but the amount of glittering stones in all shades and hues astounded him. He drawn to the box holding red hued stones of rubies, pink diamonds and garnets. He gently summoned one particular gem from within the riches and for a moment he thought he was holding the Sorcerer's Stone again. The color was reminiscent of fresh blood with the clarity of colored glass. The power resonated with his magic and it felt as if a missing piece had slotted into place, completing the chain in his reigns over his own magic. Finally he was done, as he was no longer pulled to anything he hadn't already collected.

Master Taite had laid goblets and aged mead on his bench and beckoned Gabriel and his collection over. “You are certainly a challenge, Child. Neigh, a contradiction is what you are. I'm aware of the tales of your previous life. A babe surviving a curse meant to cull life quicker than snidget. Thwarting death multiple times since, only to finally forge your own death. You are pure of soul, but pain and betrayal taint your heart. Many would have given in and given up long ago. But you choose to fight you way out and turn your pursuers on each other while you train to gain the abilities you need to stab them in the back, as they did to you.”

As he spoke his magic glowed blue in his hands as he seamlessly entwined the two woods together. He left them floating midair as turned to the feather and talon. The talon was ground to a fine glittering powder and twisted around the feather until it was no longer white, more a shimmering silver. They had to added at the same time for the process to work smoothly. Taite's magic pressed the combined cores into the wood slowly to prevent fracturing the wood. It would give a little to accommodate the incorporation of new properties, but only so much. Then the gem was rounded smooth until it resembled a two inch marble. The magic forced it into the end of the handle and faceted it flush with the surrounding wood. The handle was a little raised and contoured to fit a hand but it remained elegant enough to add to the beauty that was the wand as a whole. Two-toned, light and dark gray wood swirled down the length with a polished shine. Gabriel was in awe.

“As I said, a living contradiction. I present you Gabriel Scelestus Black with your wand. Twelve and a quarter inches. Oak and Ash with an Angel feather and Demon talon core and a Blood Stone focus. Before you receive this gift, you must add three drops of your blood to the wand. That will bind it you alone. Should anyone else get their hands on it, it will remain useless to them.”

Gabriel pulled his needle out of his leather wristband, pricked his finger and added the blood. The Blood Stone pulsed with an eerie red glow for only a moment then it went almost black.

“Why is my wand a contradiction, Master Taite?”

“To start, the woods are polar opposites in and of themselves. The oak is the king of the forest while the ash is the queen. The oak represent everything masculine and the ash is representative of the feminine. They balance each other nicely here. The Angel feather is from one of Magic's purest beings, next to unicorns, representing divine justice, purity, virginity, and healing. The Demon claw, is representative everything dark and wretched, from famine to pestilence. It can be dangerous if not respected. However Light can not exist without Darkness and vice verse. Again, they balance out, precariously, but a balance no less. Lastly, That pretty little stone, a rare Blood Stone, usually only mined from ancient battle grounds after soaking in the blood of fallen warriors for a few centuries. That, with training, will help you harness Blood Magic and sometimes healing magic as well. You should become a rather formidable opponent with that as your weapon.”

Gabriel held the wand lightly, feeling the thrumming of magic in his veins. He realized how completely inadequate his old wand was. It was never going to enable him to defeat Voldemort head on. He would have walked to his execution instead of a battle. This wand, however, was beyond anything magical he had ever felt, rivaling the throbbing heartbeat within Hogwarts herself.

“I couldn't possibly thank you enough, Master Taite. My appreciation of your time and talents is beyond words. I want you to know, that should require anything of myself in future, I would happily be at your service.”

“Maybe your Thanks is not beyond words, Child.” He laughed. “But your gratitude is palpable. You will do well young Mage. This world is overdue for a wake up call. I wish you luck in your endeavors.”

“Thank you, Master Taite, Child of the All-Father and All-Mother. May Magic bless you from now until the end of days.” Gabriel bowed again to a surprised satyr and left his domain as quietly as he came.

 


	5. Transformation

After the tests he had signed all the necessary documentation that would bequeath all of Harry Potters' wealth, including vaults containing money, property titles, family heirlooms and artifacts, and seats on the Wizards Council; it all goes to Gabriel. Harry would have inherited everything upon his sixteenth birthday. However, his murder passes everything to the next relative in line. Thanks to Lockheart and his team, Harry Potter's accounts appear frozen to the authorities, while secretly Gabriel has complete access as the sole inheritor. After his unusual visit with the Master Wand Crafter, Taite, he stopped back at Lockheart's office. He left Harry potter's wand with him initially for safe keeping and to prove his 'death' at the will reading.

Two hours after the rituals, a newly 'born' Gabriel Scelestus Black stepped out into the main alley re-glamoured to hide his unique features. At least for now. Blending seamlessly into the crowd, he kept a purposeful yet unhurried pace avoiding passersby.

When he reached the end of the alley he slipped down into Knockturn Alley without looking back. It took him a little time to navigate the winding twist and turns through the shadows, but he managed it with minimal incident. He ended up in an alcove with a dead end off from the main foot traffic. He found a black door that looked like every other black door he passed on his way here. Gabriel adjusted his hood before removing the glamour. If he was going to make a contact and ally of the best weapons and armor supplier in the British Isles, he was going to do it honestly. Besides, Gabriel had no reason to hide.

Knowing that he had been sent here by a previous customer, and therefore was able to bypass a particularly nasty hex, he thought it was polite to knock. A couple raps to the door and suddenly he felt a gap form in the wards surrounding the entrance. Then the heavy oak swung inward to emit a short dark hallway and low candle light from beyond it. Gabriel stepped over the thresh hold and immediately caught the scent of tanned leather and patchouli incense. He can feel traces of earth-based magic that ground him with a steady comforting hold. He didn't feel restrained, but a balanced control on his magic. It made him breathe deep in relaxed contentment and smile.

“I never thought I would see a Fallen One in this lifetime.” A female voice startled him. It was low and gritty, calm yet commanding. “Come in, young Black.”

At the end of the hall, the space opens to a room typical of a storefront, complete with a showcase counter top along the side wall. Curtains of sample leathers in various shades and uniform cuts lined the wall that was straight ahead. While mannequins adorned with leather creations spotted the open floor. Stepping through to stand in the middle of the main room he searched the shadows for the owner of that voice. He found eyes, liquid amber in color, glowing from behind the counter beyond the reach of the candlelight yet reflected it like a cats eyes. Gabriel stood in the middle of the floor, staring into those eyes. He opened his cloak and lowered the hood to show his body and features.

The eyes squinted at him. Then the shadows melted away to reveal a tall, lean body with an agile bone structure, mocha tan, a heart shaped face that was faceted with those otherworldly eyes, full lips and a dainty nose that was dotted with a tiny gold stud. She had a smooth shaven scalp except for the crown of her head where a thick braid of silken hair the color of fire hung in a neat braid. She wore a very steam punk- inspired wardrobe. A cream blouse, waist hugging red-brown leather corset with brass clasps, chocolate/white striped leggings tucked into thigh high red-brown leather boots that clasped a matching leather garter belt that was refashioned into a utility belt. All in all, this amazon of a woman was quite unexpected and rather intimidating. Gabriel liked her.

“Good day, Madame Elfie. I am here to request your skills and assistance.”

“Hmph. Manners are rarely seen in one so young. Then again; it may explain the age in those pretty eyes.”

“I've learned that age is irrelevant when compared to experience.”

“More bad experiences than good ones, judging by the death, betrayal and pain I see. More than a child of magic should ever see.”

Gabriel's eyes hardened for a moment. “You are correct, Madame. However, I've been newly reborn and given a second chance. I plan to take this world by storm starting with the supposed Light and Dark Lords.”

A thin eyebrow rose a fraction. “What is your name, child?”

“My name is Gabriel Scelestus Black, Madame.”

“You were supposedly reborn; then who were you?

“I was the Chosen One, the Light Scion, The-Boy Who-Lived, Harry James Potter.”

“If you are here then this can only be the change in the winds the Fates whispered of. Who sent you?”

“The Hidden Ones sent me.”

“Ah. I presume you are staying under their roof?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Good people, the Amunets. So, why are you here?”

“I require your expertise and skills. I have plans, but they're only good on paper. To make any significant progress I need to be completely reinvented and well prepared. However, I have an unusual request. Technically, I am missing and soon to be presumed dead. Authorities are looking for the body of The- _ **Boy**_ -Who-Lived. I want to enhance my androgynous features. Which I understand I can do on my own, but with your help I can deceive the masses into thinking pretty isn't dangerous.”

A mischievous smirk crawled onto her face and she crossed her arms over her chest and stalked toward Gabriel. “I don't work cheap, you know.”

“Money is no concern over high quality.”

“Very well. Come with me and I'll get your measurements” She lead him to a closed off fitting area surrounded by mirrors and very well lit with a small dais in the center.

After removing his cloak, he stepped onto the dais in his slacks and silk shirt and the amazon of a woman manually took his measurements humming to herself at random intervals. “You're lucky. According to my tape measure, your body is proportionate enough that I can accentuate your natural curvature. This will be simple enough, but, you have a few options available. I can do simple feminine robes that hug you tighter than plain male robes. I can make a full skirt, complete to ankle-length, with a waist hugging bodice that would really force the feminine look. Then there's the mix of feminine and masculine. I call it the business casual of the wizarding world. It's basically pant suits, pencil skirts, blouses and jackets. It's very progressive looking but obviously magical, so I wouldn't wear my creations into the muggle world.”

“It sounds complicated. However, you are the expert and I am willing to take your expertise under advisement. After we finish I plan to go to another supplier for the more – ah, intricate necessities. ”

“Very good, young Angel. I understand your embarrassment but don't let it stop you If your going to accentuate the effeminate side of your features you can't do it half-assed, or the world will see the line that divides the male and female. That line needs to be so fine that no one knows for sure which gender they're drooling over. You should leave people questioning their sexuality, not your sanity. If you hesitate over this, you will continue to hesitate in your actions; worrying who will find out what's under your skirt. People will prey on your weaknesses, Child. Confidence in yourself is key. Besides, I know you have motivations for the disguise, but I doubt you would suggest this if you didn't at least like the idea of looking and feeling pretty.”

Gabriel was finally forced to admit his reasoning behind his choice of disguise. He bit his lip. _'What the hell! In for a penny; in for a pound.'_ “I liked the business casual option. It sounds more versatile and since I'll be in different situations I'll need that kind of flexibility.”

“That line of designs has the benefit of being comfortable even when clinging to certain curves and flowing over others. You know I specialize in leather but there are other materials available. Do you want to show a little skin?”

“I don't mind but it's not necessary.”

“Of course it is. Showing some flesh is considered flirty, distracting, hints at vulnerability. It can become part of the mask that you use against others. All of my fashion has a function. It enables you to conceal and carry any number of weapons comfortably and unencumbered. I'll dress you like a nightshade flower; beautiful but deadly.”

“Sounds perfect, but wouldn't some of the clothes look awkward on a woman without breasts?”

“Some clothes yes, but that's the beauty of magic. There's a disguise charm that can grow breast tissue. It has a counter charm, so it's not permanent, but the charm actually manipulates existing tissue. It's not an illusion so there's no detection spell that will uncover that little secret. If you like we can use the charm now and then I'll fit your wardrobe to your bust size. Afterwards you can go into the muggle world for proper bras and underthings”

Without hesitation, Gabriel nodded his consent. “One last thing. Everything must be durable. I'm going to school in Greece.”

Her thin eyebrow arched with a small smirk. “Excellent! It will be done. I believe you will take this world of pathetic sheeple by storm, young Black Angel. If the whispers I hear are true, then you will do my Alma Mater proud.”

“No pressure then,” Gabriel smiled.

“Now when you perform the charm you will feel some tingling in your chest as the mammary tissues enlarge. You won't hold it too long though, maybe ten seconds. We want them to be an obvious handful, but not so big you look top heavy. Besides, too much weight will impact your back and shoulders, hindering you. Any questions?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Very well. The charm is _**amplificatio pectoris**_ held for ten seconds. When you perform this charm on yourself you don't need your wand. Simply hold your hands to your chest, as if you're cupping your new breasts already. Hold them for the full ten seconds and then release the charm and they will stop growing. It's a good way to track their growth as well. The counter-charm is similar. Same process in reverse. No wand necessary, just your hands. Say _**detrimenti**_ and press your hands inward and they will shrink”

“Sounds simple enough, I suppose.”

“This first time I will assist you from behind just to help you position your hands but you will perform the magic. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Gabriel started to channel his magic into his hands, not much just a drop from the well that is his core.

“Alright. Hold your hands to your chest.” The tall predator of an amazonian woman circled to stand at Gabriel's back. She stood close enough that Gabriel could not only feel her body heat, he could also tell that he only came up to just under her collar in height. “Careful not to channel too much power. You want to gently manipulate the tissue. Too much power, too fast and you can cause anything from bruising to an accidental heart attack.” Her voice was soft and gentle, as was her touch as she held his wrists and adjusted their position. Gabriel had his eyes closed, completely focused inward on the magic. “When you're ready, say the incantation.”

“ _**Amplificatio pectoris.**_ ” Immediately there was a pulling sensation in his chest followed by a light twinge of pain. He felt a weight fill his hands and pull his shoulders downward at the same time. After ten seconds he counted to five to be sure of the size he was going for and then released the magic. He kept his hands in place and his eyes closed, half afraid to look down. Madame Elfie moved away from his back leaving a ghost of warmth behind. Her soft, gentle laugh convinced him to peek at her.

“Come, Angel, you're not really a blushing maiden. No need to pretend yet. You did very well, for your first time with only minor instruction and no practice.”

Gabriel chanced a glanced at himself and gasped. There they were; perky, heavy, and perfectly round. Thank the Goddess he was wearing a shirt or he would be more embarrassed than he was. “Oh my Gods.” He whispered, half fascinated – half disturbed.

“You look good, Child. Now let's finish your measurements before I release you onto the unsuspecting masses.”

“Alright.” He stepped back onto the dais and she started wrapping the tape measure around his chest. “ Do you have any suggestions as to where I might finish my shopping?”

'Hmm. I don't know much about purchasing muggle attire. But, you could try Talbots Lane. They have a few specialty shoppes that might have some things to accentuate your wardrobe. I do suggest that while you're shopping that you look for some good quality shoes. They do make combat worthy boots for ladies, but you might want to try practicing in heels for those formal occasions when heels are necessary. Besides, I will equip you with one pair of boots with your battle robes, but you can't wear them for all occasions.”

“I understand, Madame. If I'm going to be a lady then I need a wardrobe to match.” He determinedly squared his shoulders and settled in for the slow process that was his transformation.

Three hours later, after the most uncomfortable experience of his life to date, he was done. Three hours of measuring, sizing and re-sizing, debating over materials, colors, cuts, flirty versus function, and a few cups of tea. He had one outfit that he was to take now and the rest would be delivered within three days. Throughout the proceedings Madame Elfie had removed his black pants and long sleeve tunic, and replaced them with a deep ruby red, long sleeved peasant blouse, a dark leather corset-vest that hugged his frame, dark brown doe skin leggings that looked like they were painted on, a tea-length ruby colored linen skirt and dark brown ankle boots with a three inch heel that she helped him practice walking in. It wasn't quite in line with today's wizarding fashions, but he was sticking to playing it off as being a foreign witch who lost the luggage she was traveling with.

When it came down to real life ladylike charms that he would need, like makeup and hair charms, he was hopeless. So Madame Elfie gifted him with a book, free of charge, that covered everything he would need and then some. Finally when it came time for him to leave, he almost didn't want to go.

“Thank you, Madame Elfie. Your assistance and expertise it greatly appreciated and has made my transition a smooth one. If there is anything I can do for you in return I pray you don't hesitate to call on me.”

“It has been a pleasure, Angel. The payment tendered with you for today is enough, but I will keep you in my thoughts. Remember, when you rejoin society to walk with your head held high. You are a beautiful young lady in body and mind if not blood. You are a Black Angel and you will make your bloodline proud. Send me an owl should you require anything. I have a few new ideas in mind for you.”

Gabriel smiled brightly as he pulled his cloak around himself and stepped outside. He felt the magic bend around him and close again, re-sealing and disguising the door. He had a bit more shopping to do, but thankfully it would be quick and he should be back at The Hole in The Wall by early evening.

 


	6. Little Angel

Talbots Lane was an interesting place to say the least. It was a rather calmer atmosphere than Diagon Alley, with small trees planted every so few feet along the walkways a large central fountain feature and fairy lit lamps providing a quaint charm to the Lane. Gabriel kept his hood down and his new long black hair hung freely. He remained alert but he felt serene in this particularly quiet shopping plaza. His shopping was delegated to the necessities of things like under clothes and toiletries; and was made simpler by a handful of very helpful attendants who were understanding of a young lady's plight of being in a new country without much more than her wand. He knew about the flirtatious glances he received, and he smiled politely but remained disconnected. He knows that they see a pretty face, and that's all they need to see.

The walk back to the tavern was peaceful, even if he had to be more cautious the closer he got. But once he was through the doors he breathed a sigh of relief. He approached the bar, gaining Rowan's attention as he sat on a bar stool.

“Can I help you, little las?”

“You have already helped me so much, Mr. Amunet. I have returned from my business with the Goblins and I had a wonderful meeting with Madame Elfie. I have found myself and I like the person I'm becoming. I hope I'm in time to help with the dinner rush?”

The more he talked, the wider Rowan's eyes got. He leaned on the bar and looked into those violet eyes that shined with amusement. “Harry?” He whispered, unsure but he wasn't about to blow the cover of a client in his own tavern.

Gabriel smiled and nodded as Rowan let out the breath he was holding. “We were starting to worry little one. Come in the back and we'll all talk some before I set you loose on the customers.”

“I'm sorry I made you worry.”

“You didn't make us. We worry naturally 'cause we care about you.” Rowan lead him down the hallway and knocked on the kitchen door loudly before pushing it open. “Cara, luv, our little raven has returned, safely and unscathed, but definitely different.”

Cara was behind a workbench with flour on her hands and her hair tied back with a few strands loose around her face. She looked up and promptly gasped. She wiped her hands off with a cloth and as quick as her large belly allowed, she crossed the kitchen to stand before Gabriel and held his face in her hands. “Harry? Is that really you, sweetheart? What happened today that you return to us looking like a butterfly fresh from her cocoon?”

Gabriel blushed and ducked his chin shyly. He supposed he better start from the beginning. He took a deep breath. “ I'm not Harry Potter anymore. I never wanted the fame that came attached to my birth name so I chose a new name with a new life to call mine. I went to the goblins for help in my plan to kill off Harry Potter in such a way that my new identity would inherit everything. I did a ritual that would reawaken any latent familial magic in my bloodline and had a new birth certificate and papers drawn up along with a new history to complete the picture. I am now Gabriel Scelestus Black from the Ancient and Noble House of Black of the Roman Branch. I am a Black Fallen Angel with access to certain familial magic stemming from a creature inheritance. I am visiting family to offer my condolences on my cousin Sirius Black's passing.”

“Holy shit.” Rowan cursed quietly.

“I hope you will still allow me to stay for the summer until I go to Greece in the fall for school.” Gabriel bit his lip nervously. 

“ Of course you can stay sweetheart. I am curious about this wonderful outfit though.” Cara said, hugging Gabriel as much as she could, bending him over her belly.  
“I identify myself as male officially but I enjoy dressing in women clothes and looking pretty. I understand if you're uncomfortable with it, but I hope it doesn't impact my staying here. I actually had Madam Elfie help me create a very feminine wardrobe which should arrive in a few days. Until then, I went to Talbots Lane for some extra clothes and some necessities.”

“We would never turn you out, least of all for such a trivial reason as your lifestyle choices.” Rowan reassured. “But, what about Harry Potter? People will be looking for a body.”

“They won't find one. The ritual changed my magical core. Therefore, Harry Potter's magic is no longer traceable. They will look for the-boy-who-lived, not a boy dressed like a girl. People may search for him, but they won't find him. Eventually the general populace will think he's dead, whether by suicide or murder will be left for the papers to decide. There will be an official will reading, in about a week, which I will attend as the sole inheritor. They will present my old wand as proof of my death.” Gabriel was getting frustrated with his situation as it stood. “I just want to live my life my way. I won't abandon the world to Voldemort's reign of terror, but I'm in no shape to take him and his forces on as I stand here today. That's why I'm going to Greece. I start at Mount Olympus Academy of Mages September 10th.”

“Holy shit!” said Cara. She and Rowan shared a long look that conveyed that some big decisions were being made. Rowan smiled at his wife and shrugged. Cara smiled back and nodded once. They looked back at Gabriel. “ You are going to stay here as our niece, and you will work in the tavern. Your room will remain yours. When you leave for school we won't be reopening it for anyone else so that you have a safe haven to return to even during the school year in case you need to escape. We will be here. You can leave some of your things here if you want. You can think of this as home. We will help you any way that we can. I think we should call you something else while you're here though. Keep Gabriel hidden until you leave for Greece.”

Gabriel cried tears of happiness and relief at their blatant acceptance and continued assistance without hardly knowing him. They were offering him a real home for nearly nothing. He was planning to work off his tab anyway. “Thank you, so much.” He cried into Cara's shoulder as Rowan's hand twined itself into his hair. “You can call me Angel, it's what Madam Elfie kept calling me.”

“That's perfect. Now I want you dry those tears. Head up to your room and freshen up, then come back down and you can help me and Rowan with the customers.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

“That's Auntie to you now, Sweets. Now go on and hurry back.”

Gabriel ran upstairs to his apartment and emptied his pockets of his shrunken purchases. He left them shrunk for now, deciding he'll put it all away later. He only took out a couple select items, re-sized them and ran in to the bathroom. He removed the skirt from his ensemble to hang up. Then undressed so that he could put on his new underwear, black lace with a support panel that hid any unsightly bulges, and matching bra for better support. He put the leggings back on, left the blouse loose from his waistband and re-cinched the corset-vest and re-buckled his ankle boots. He quickly checked the Lady's Charms book for hair taming charms and found one that plaited hair. So he tapped his head and watched his hair twist itself into an elegant loose plait that fell around his left shoulder. He accioed a tube of lipstick from his pile on the bed and lightly spread the blood red color along his lips. Perfect. 

He went to his trunk, unlocked it after resetting the signature keyed to his magic, and pulled out two leather wristbands. They were meant to hold and conceal the silver needles that he crafted as his personal weapons. The leather was doubled layered with the needles housed between the layers to prevent him from stabbing himself. The outer layer was etched with Celtic knots imbued with magic to prevent summoning, ever-sharpening and auto-return charm; but they simply looked like a fashion accessory.

Before he locked his door he conjured a black apron to tie around his waist. When he reached the main tavern, he ignored the glaces he received for now and hurried over behind the bar, to Rowan. He smiled at him after looking him up and down. “ You'll do fine as a lady. You look ready to take on anything and you were ready in record time, Las. Now, down to business. All you need to remember is to take your time. Don't run yourself into the ground your first day. Here's a pad and an auto-ink quill to write down orders. Menus are kept under the counter here. Write the order down bring it to me if its drink and food goes to Cara in the kitchen. If you have any problems come to me. Remember you don't have to be anything besides my niece, Angel, who is working and living here over the summer. No one needs more information than that. You may have come to us to hide, but now you are one of The Hidden Ones.”

Gabriel smiled wide and nodded. “Yes, Uncle Rowan.”

Rowan smirked. “That's my girl. Before you get started, go and see if your Auntie has anything to send out.”

“Okay.”

Cara pounced on him as soon as he stepped through the door. “Oh look at you! You're going to do great, I know it. I have no orders to fill yet but you can take these fresh biscuits out. Just put a basket on each table and place a preserving bubble over them. Did Rowan give you the run down?”

“Yes, Auntie Cara. I think I'll be okay.”

“Good girl!” Cara winked, causing Gabriel to laugh.

Gabriel puled out his wand and charmed the baskets to stack themselves into two tier of six for now, He would make a second trip for the rest. On his way out to the dining area, he stopped behind the bar for a water pitcher and then continued on his way. He was a tad nervous, but he clung to fact that no one recognized him. So he could introduce himself as Angel to strangers, without the hero worship and expectations of his previous life.

There weren't many customers yet, so he got a slow start and found his rhythm soon enough. After distributing the biscuits and setting a couple tables in preparation, he approached one of the few people early enough to enjoy a quiet evening meal.

A gentleman seated at a booth, perused a menu that he had been holding for little while now. His dull brown hair and heavy lidded blue eyes made him seem older and tired. But Gabriel approached hoping to cue him to order.  
“Good evening,Sir. My name is Angel and I will be your waitress. Are you ready to order?” He kept his voice soft and delicate like a shy young lady's.

The man looked up to notice the petite lass with a pretty face with a sweet, genuine smile and amethyst eyes that sparkled. He smiled back and handed the menu to the little lass. “I am rather torn. Perhaps you could make a suggestion?”

Gabriel bit his lip, “I've always preferred the shepherds pie. Auntie Cara's is particularly delicious.”

The man smiled and nodded, “Then I shall have to try it, at your bidding.”

“Can I offer you a glass of water or something else while you wait?”

“Water while I wait; but can you bring me a pint of your best ale with the meal?”

“Of course, Sir.” Gabriel poured a generous glass of water before he returned to the kitchen. He found Cara bent over the open oven. “ Have you got any of your shepherds pie ready, Auntie Cara?”

“I will in a moment, honey. I just need to pull it out of the oven.” She lifted a whole baking wrack from the oven laden with a half dozen ceramic bowls overflowing with meat stew and golden mashed potato topping. It smelled fantastic and it reminded him of being at hogwarts. It smelled like home. She loaded a bowl onto a serving tray with a small plate of buttered dinner rolls. “Here you are, Angel.” 

Gabriel smiled, “Thank you. I just need a pint and this order is filled.” He set the tray to floating and guided it with his finger tips out of the kitchen. “Uncle Rowan?” 

Rowan looked up from stocking bottles. “Yes?”

“Can I bother you for a pint of ale, please.”

“Sure thing, darlin.” He filled a large stein from the tapped barrel on the back of the bar, and then he set it on the floating tray. 

“Thank you.” Gabriel walked out through the empty tables, heels clicking as his hips swayed to a new rhythm. He felt a new sense of confidence well up inside his chest. It made his expression glow and his amethyst eyes twinkled. He was enjoying this new found freedom that came with a new identity and the positive reception that being a lady brought. And unbeknownst to him, people noticed his infectious happiness.

He came up to his customer's table with a soft smile and cocked hip as he set set the order down. “There you go, sir. Shepherds pie fresh from the oven and full of everything a man needs, and a pint of ale to top it off. Can I get you anything else?”

“Thank you, Lass, it smells wonderful. If I do require your service I'll be sure ask for you.”

“Very good, sir. Please enjoy yourself.” Gabriel said as he snagged the floating tray from the air beside him and headed to the bar where Rowan was waiting for him.

“How did I do?”

“Excellent! You keep that up and business around here might get a bit better. I used to have to run the orders out and keep tabs on the bar. It was a mess. But I think you're exactly what we needed. I can tell that gentleman appreciated your service-with-a-smile attitude. Hopefully you'll be able to handle the crowd when it gets a bit later.”

“I think I'll be okay. I can practice magic freely now so that will help. I like pretending to be a girl. No one expects me to be anything except polite, kind, and pretty. I know I already had most of those qualities, but no one appreciated them for being a part of me.”

“Well hopefully you get the chance to feel free to be yourself now that you are my pretty niece. Granted I still worry about what you might face here since it can get a bit rough around here. We are a neutral house but we cater to those that are light, dark, and even gray. Just remember, we get all kinds of characters in here. So you might run into your typical oddballs or even the occasional creature. We accept them all without prejudice. The only rule we have is if they're not renting a room we don't take names.”

“Got it. I like that rule.” Gabriel smiled.

As the evening light got dimmer, more patrons filled the dining room. There were a few groups clambering around the center tables, but most had opted to dine alone in the booths. Some of them looked shadier than others but they all came together to sate their hunger. Gabriel, or Angel, was in his glory. Once he started moving he didn't stop. He got three orders going at once and at least two serving trays flowing him at any given time, one with a platter to serve and the other with a few pitchers of liquid, some water, ale, coffee(charmed to keep hot) and pumpkin juice, ready for pouring on a whim. His quill and note pad were the only things that he kept in hand since he was near constantly scribbling away. He wasn't even feeling flustered. He enjoyed having one simple purpose and he excelled at it.

He handled patrons with poor attitudes the same way he handled the nicer ones. He smiled and performed his duties to the best of his ability. He didn't let their negativity affect him, but hopefully his positive mood brightened theirs. The majority of his patrons liked him well enough it seems. A few of the gentlemen flirted and the women were kind. Nothing went wrong, no one suspected who he used to be. All they saw was Angel, niece to the Inn's owners. He didn't meet any peculiar customers this evening, but that didn't mean he never would, and he looked forward to it. 

After the last of the frequenting customers left, Gabriel swept his hand through the air and lifted the dishes and cutlery into a basin and set conjured rags to cleaning the tables as he passed by each one. When he stood at the bar again he turned to face the room and swirled his finger like a corkscrew and the chairs lifted to sit upside-down, their seats on the tables. Then he snapped his fingers and a broom set to sweeping the floor. He walked into the kitchen to join Cara in the clean up. She was wiping flour off the center work bench as dishes washed themselves in the sink.

“Here is the last of the dirty dishes. The last gentleman has paid his tab and gone. I wiped the tables, upset the chairs, and the broom is still sweeping.”

“Oh my, already? Look at you! One day on the job and you take to it like a dragon to fire. Just add those to the pile, Angel. You can help me prepare the dough for tomorrow so it can rise. Oh, have you seen that husband of mine out there?”

“He went down to the cellar.”

“Oh well, I have you now, dear. Can you float down the container of yeast for me? I'm limited in my uses of magic at this late stage in the game.” Cara said, rubbing the top of her belly.

“How far along are you?” Gabriel asked as he summoned the yeast from the shelf.

“Seven months. It's going to be a surprise, but Rowan and I have a little bet going. He says it's a boy, and I say it's a girl. Would you like to weigh in, maybe break the tie?”

“Sure.” He approached Cara's big belly, “May I?” he asked, gesturing for permission to touch. Cara nodded and Gabriel spread his fingers wide and laid just his fingertips on either side of the belly protruding between them. He slipped a tiny amount of his magic into her womb, just to analyze. What he found made him smile, his magic slipped out harmlessly and he looked up to Cara. Her expression inquisitive, his was full of wonder.

“Well? What do you think, luv?”

“ I could break the tie, but I won't. I'll let this little miracle surprise you, and trust me they will.”

“Oh, you know! Now you have me curious. Tell me, please, Gabriel.”

“Nope. You have to wait, Auntie” Gabriel laughed. 

“Ooh. Fine.” She mockingly grouched. “If you won't tell me, at least help me kneed this dough.”

“Now that is something I can do.” He laughed.

Together they readied the dough, laughing and talking, then set it to rise over night. When Gabriel fell into bed that night freshly showered and tired in the best way, he couldn't help thinking that things were looking up. He hoped that he continued to be so blessed. He knew that difficult time were coming, but at least he had a place that could be a sanctuary from it all. After all, it was just a matter of time before someone noticed that Harry Potter wasn't reporting that he was 'fine' anymore.


	7. Murder?

Little Whinging was as quiet and untroubled as ever, according to any of its residents. Children ran around playing in the summer sun. Mothers and Fathers went about their daily lives as usual. No one noticed the Dursleys' lack of participation in the community. They certainly didn't suspect anything horrible had happen to the family in the four days since their nephew came home from whatever school it was he went to. The muggles remained blissfully unaware. However, the wizards kept tabs on this particular home because of a particular resident. 

Harry Potter, have just survived another attack from Voldemort, was supposed to report his condition and location to the Order of the Phoenix every three days. Most of the Order thought it was better to keep him at Headquarters or the the Weasley Burrow. But Dumbledore insisted he go back to Little Whinging to the protection of the blood wards. After three days, the expected note never arrived. The morning of the forth day yielded Hedwig with empty talons, however there was blood splattered across her pure white feathers. The sight of the blood alarmed Remus, the one to receive the owl, to the point that he flooed Severus Snape. 

He didn't call Albus or the other Order members, yet. Truth be told, he hasn't trusted Albus when it came to Harry's well being in a long time. He seemed to blatantly disregard his emotional and mental state after everything that has happened to him and what he's been forced to witness. When Severus told him that Umbridge used a blood quill in her detentions, and that Harry had an unusual amount of detentions with her he never looked so forward to the full moon. Moony broiled with anger at the assault of his only pup. Severus could only do so much under the headmaster's scrutiny. 

The two men waited for the cover of evening before they left. They apparated to Little Whinging to find a quiet street, the street lights were just coming on. Number four, Privet Drive seemed normal from a distance, the car in the driveway, lawn perfectly manicured, the lights were dimmed. Anyone would have thought that the family went to bed. They planned to just use a charm to let themselves in, but as they crossed the wards they could see that the dark green front door was wide open. The wards must have an illusion ruin built into them. 

Remus stopped and put a hand out to stop Severus. “Wait! I smell blood. A lot of blood.” His voice was hitched from fear of what they might find.

“Can you smell Harry?” Severus asked.

Remus nodded, “I smell him but the blood is over riding it”

“Well, we'll get no answers standing out here.”

They step up to the door and peer into the darkness, listening for signs of life. Severus flicks his wand to cast a Lumos and before his eyes can adjust Remus gasps. “Severus look!” He points at the small door hanging open half way into the entry hall, under the stairs. They can see the blood, but upon closer inspection, they find small claw-like marks on the door. Inside the cupboard, for that's what it was, there was a small puddle of blood and the smell of urine was old. The blood trail lead out of the cupboard and it appeared that a bleeding body was dragged across the hall, over the white carpet.

In the living room, the horror reached new heights. The furniture was broken and in complete disarray with upholstery torn and fluff falling out. Nick-knacks were throne around and broken. Holes spotted the walls with cracks spreading out like spider webs. The crimson pool in the middle of snow white solidified the dying hope within Remus. There's no way that anyone would have survived that amount of blood loss. Tears gathered in Remus' eyes as he suddenly tensed and turned to bolt out of the room an dashed up the stairs.

Severus squeezed his eyes shut, while he heard Remus slamming doors open, before he finally heard a gut wrenching sob from the stairs. He moved to meet the other man at the bottom as he collapsed to sit on the last step. Remus had his arms wrapped around himself like he was mortally wounded.

“HE'S GONE!!” Remus wailed. “HARRY'S GONE!.... my pup..all I had left..I should have brought him back with me. I would have protected him. After Sirius, Harry was all I had.. oh my sweet puppy. Why? Why did he have to be dragged into this war? Why did Dumbledore force him to grow up so fast? He was just a child in all of this!”

“I have no answers for you my friend. But I will get them for you. First of all, I'm not sure if this was a Death Eater raid as that Dark Mark might persuade us to think. If this happened within the last four days no Death Eater would have kept quiet about killing off Potter for their Master. Besides, He has ordered everyone to leave the brat alone. He knows Dumbledore is using him as a pawn for reasons that are yet unclear. His last supposed attempt on the boy, he was actually trying to possess him long enough to tell him the truth. But he was faced with Dumbledore while trying to focus on the connection as well. Something else happened here, I'm just not sure what.”

Remus wiped his face and sniffled, when he gagged on the scent of rotting flesh. “Oh Merlin! What is that smell? Smells like dead, rotting pig. Where is it coming from?

Severus walked down the hall over the blood trail and passed the cupboard. The kitchen was pristine, definitely not the source of the wretched stench. He turned left toward the dinning room to investigate further, but he didn't get beyond the first step in that direction. “Remus. I hope you have a strong stomach.”

“Why? What is it?”

“Looks like a couple of rotting pigs.” Severus said sardonically as he pulled a handkerchief lace with anise to cover his nose. He stood staring at the scene before him holding the elbow of the hand covering his mouth and nose.

“What?!” Remus exclaimed. As he approached Severus pulled a second anise lace cloth from his pocket and offered it wordlessly. Remus turned to the sight and almost wretched then and there. “Dear Merlin! Who the hell did this?” He asked as he gratefully took the handkerchief.

The exploded bodies of the three Dursleys laid in their own blood, bile and excrement looking like they swallowed dynamite. Their abdominal cavities were burst open and their organs were hardly recognizable. 

“I would hazard a guess it was either some sick fuck, or this was revenge. Something doesn't make sense here. The amount of violence suggests that the murderer knew them on a personal level. This wasn't mere death eaters going over board. They might spill blood, but the room wouldn't look like a slaughter house.”

“You're sure about that? What do you make of that Dark Mark on the wall?”

“I noticed that the blood doesn't mix. Look, I'll identify the blood.” Severus swished his wand and the blood from the three bodies glowed three different colors of dull blue yellow and green that dripped down the walls and swirled together on the floor. “The dull tones indicate the lack of magic in the muggles. Now if I check the blood in the living room,” Another swish of a wand and the blood glowed vivid Avada Kedavra green. “ That is the magical signature of a wizard. This looks like two different crime scenes. The muggles were messy, personal with an undertone of revenge. But this looks like violence and torture according to the floor with a supposed signature of the Dark Lord. I know for a fact that the Dark is not aware of this. And another thing; where is the body?”

“Should we tell Dumbledore? I know he has tracers on Harry, he is our first priority here.”

“Not until I know what happened here. I have one more spell to cast.” Severus knelt down to dip the tip of his wand in the blood. “Sanguis volens.” The blood rippled and shimmered silver like unicorn blood, before returning to the dark red-brown state is was before. “Shit!”

“What is it, Severus?”

“This blood was donated willingly. This room was not a murder, if it was the result would have been black, not silver.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that Harry Potter faked his own death, murdered his relatives and blamed it on the Dark to throw the Light side off his trail! He's probably been in the wind since the summer started.”

“Sonuvabitch! I knew I should have taken him home with me. If I did this wouldn't have happened. I need to find him. I'm done with Dumbledore thinking he can protect him when it looks like his protections turn around to bite him in the ass.” He brandished his wand and cast Point-Me. The wand just spun in his palm with no purpose. ”Shit! That kid is good. Where would he go?”

“It looks like our golden boy lost the same faith in the Light that you did. If he's really abandoned the Light I need to tell the Dark Lord. First we need to keep Dumbledore blind to this as long as possible.”

“Right. Then I suppose we have to keep him and the Order from finding this mess. If you mind cleaning up the dinning room, I take this room. Afterwards you can go to your Lord, I'll figure out a song and dance before I get to Hogwarts. Then I am going looking for my pup.”

The two of them had the house to rights in no time with a few wand flicks here and there. The bodies were vanished and the blood was wiped up with conjured sponges. The walls and furniture were fixed with a simple repairo. Remus made sure to magically seal the house and ward it from anyone besides himself and Severus to keep people from blowing the whistle too soon. When they were done they shook hands and bid one another good night and apparated to the opposite sides of the chess board to begin plotting there subsequent moves.


	8. Not Murder - Vengeance

Remus appeared at the gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, pale and nauseous due in part to the type of magical travel utilized and in part to the damage caused by his previously-thought-gentle godson. He took some deep breaths to clear the dizziness from his head and the scent of death from his nostrils. Looking up at the castle in all her glory, he wondered how far Harry had fallen for him turn to murder as an escape. He knew it started and ended with Sirius. Harry saw him as not just the closest thing to a parent but as a way out of the hell he lived in every summer. Sirius promised a home with unconditional love and a connection to his parents and the world they were part of. When Sirius went through the veil, Harry's hopes of a loving family were shattered along with Remus's own heart. 

That night Remus didn't want to leave his pup, but the Order was called to meet over what happened. He was forced to release Harry back into the tender mercies of Madame Pomfrey, who assured everyone Harry was physically healthy. But Remus knew better, he saw the shadows under those haunting eyes at the train station. He remembered how they used to glitter with joy and mischief. Now he may never see those pretty eyes again. The thought of losing Harry forever nearly brought tears to the werewolf's eyes, but he couldn't indulge in misery right now. He was about to walk up to the most powerful Light Lord in Britain and lie through his teeth. He had to steel himself and ward his mind to look like he had nothing to hide.

As he walked through the courtyard to the entrance he wandered what Harry's reasons for running were. He wouldn't have done something so drastic as murdering his relatives without a rational motive. Whatever the explanation may be, it better be a damn good one for giving Remus a heart attack. His nostrils flared and he growled in irritation, startling the paintings near by. He was going to give that pup a stern talking to when he found him about worrying werewolves with frail hearts.

The gargoyle that stood at the bottom of headmaster's tower was already moved aside. Which meant two things; Remus didn't have to waste his time guessing the password, and that the headmaster already had a visitor. Remus could hear voices from the other side of the heavy oak door, one steady and calm the other was loud and stressed. Remus brought a fist up to knock and politely announce himself, but before he could even knock once the door wrenched open and thrown aside to bang on the wall behind it. There stood none other than the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge himself, red-faced and blustering as he thundered past Remus and down the staircase. Confused, Remus stood in the doorway, his back to the office, staring after the man.

“Do come in, Remus.” Albus Dumbledore's weary voice echoed through the circular room. “Shut the door, please.”

Remus turned around and stepped around the swinging door to shut it softly. “Do I want to know what has that neanderthal's complexion competing with a tomato?” He sighed as he nodded to Fawkes on his perch, before taking a seat on chair opposite of the headmaster's desk.

Dumbledore chuckled tiredly and shook his head in amusement. “Just the usual reasons; Voldemort is not back on this plane of existence, I'm supposedly trying to usurp his position as Minister, Harry Potter is a lying, attention seeking child suffering a psychotic break. He simply refuses to believe anything I say to back up Harry's statement to witnessing Voldemort’s rebirth. He insists it didn't happen and that life should continue as per normal instead of considering calling a state of emergency like I suggested. Thank goodness Harry isn't in the middle of this ministry mess of denial. I pray you are here to inform me of the boy's safe arrival to his relatives and the continuous monitoring of his location and condition.” 

Remus resisted the urge to claw the arm of the chair under his hand. Between the Minister's dismissal of his pup's warnings of Voldemort’s return and Dumbledore's disregard of his mental health, Moony was demanding blood. Remus nodded in agreement, “There was a slight hiccup with communications, but it was solved easily. Seems Mundungus didn't key Hedwig into the wards properly. So she was unable to find the house, yet thankfully Harry told her to find me and not headquarters. She was unable to reach me due to my residing in the house, and as I just stepped out today she was waiting for me. I fixed her signature to the wards properly and there shouldn't be anymore issues.”

“Very good, my boy. Thank you for dealing with that oversight. I trust that you followed up the late message by checking on Harry. I understand he wasn't the reason for this particular omission, but we can't be too careful and he must remain with his relatives in order to maintain the wards for the year.”

“Yes, I checked on him from a distance. He seemed to be enthralled with his school work. However, he is still at his relatives.”

“Good. I used to be able to monitor him from my office with a few special devices of my own creation. But after facing Voldemort and his Death Eaters, watching Sirius die, and recovering from the cruciatus, I fear that news of the Prophesy was too much stress for the poor boy. The magical backlash of his unbridled emotions did quite a bit of damage to portions of my office, including those particular devices. Now, I must rely on visual accounts of his condition.”

“If you would like, Headmaster, I can check on him once a week to put your mind at ease.”

“That would be most helpful, dear boy.”

“It would be my pleasure. I worry about that boy often myself. It would ease my own concerns to do it. However, if it's no trouble, Sir, I must be going. The full moon is this week and I need my rest.”

“Of course, go on Remus, rest easy and thank you for your services.” 

Remus hoisted himself out of the overly stuffed chair, playing up the affects of the full moon with a soft groan. “Good evening, Sir. I'll see you next week with my report.”

“Good evening to you as well.” Dumbledore replied.

As Remus left the office he kept up the act until he reached the outer courtyard. Looking up to the moon he calculated that he did indeed have little over a week until it was full. That's plenty of time to meet with lesser known friends of Harry's. He hoped that Severus' evening was going just as smooth. He knew that he got off lightly without having his mind searched. Now it was time to hunt. He set off into the Forbidden forest with senses on high alert and amber eyes aglow.

 

In an unplotable location, under wards rivaling Gringotts, Severus apparated onto the specified slab of soapstone etched with ruins allowing certain people with keyed access to the wards. The downside to this security measure was that it was at the edge of the property. Severus had to walk a few meters over the manicured lawns before reaching the entrance of the opulent manor of Slytherin Hall. Voldemort moved his base of operations to his ancestral estate after the confrontation in Little Hangleton. Dumbledore didn't know of Tom Riddle inheriting any properties outside of that village let alone him having access to properties belonging to one of the Founders.

After knocking on the front door, a house elf showed him to the main parlor used for receiving guests where he was informed to wait for the Master of the House. Despite Slytherin influences, the décor wasn't that intimidating green/silver motif. In fact, Severus found the warm earth tones that surrounded him to be rather soothing, although a glass of fire whiskey would go a long ways further to pacify his current mood.

“Severus, my friend. What are you doing here? You're not due back so soon.” The soft baritone, devoid of any trace of hissing, broke Severus from his thoughts. The man that stood framed in the door was handsome and appeared younger than his years thanks to the dark chocolate chin length locks framing intense garnet eyes with a thin, straight nose and thinner lips that were pulled into a frown. He stood taller than Severus himself by only a few inches, but his posture and aura was nonetheless intimidating.

“Apologies, My Lord. I have made a detrimental discovery that has me rather disturbed.”

“I see. Will tea suffice, or will this discussion require my best Cognac?”

“Tea to start, but shall we leave our options open?”

“Very well. Milo,” The Dark Lord called for his elf, which popped into the room between Master and Servant. “Please prepare a tea tray for myself and my guest, but have the 1847 Cognac on standby.” The elf nodded in assent and disappeared. “Please sit down, Severus. Tell me everything.”

“Thank you, My Lord. As you know well, Hogwart's has released this generation of spawn back onto the world for the summer holidays, including Potter. He was sent back to his relatives with the stipulation that he owl the Order with update on his location and condition every three days. The first message should have arrived yesterday. When it did not come Dumbledore sent Lupin and myself out to check on the boy. We waited until we had the cover of dark before making the journey.” 

The arrival of tea temporally interrupted his narrative which gave him a moment to steel himself. “ When we arrived everything appeared fine until we crossed the wards. The front door of the house was wide open and all the lights were off. Lupin said he could smell old blood and a lot of it. We ran inside and found a scene out of horror novels. There is a small closet underneath the stairs where the door was left open. Inside it was traces of blood, urin and excrement. There were claw-like grooves on the inside of the door. Blood trailed from within that closet to the living room across the hall. The living room itself was a disaster. Furniture was broken and stuffing was shredded from cushions, holes punched through the walls and knickknacks were smashed. In the middle of the pure white carpet, the trail of blood stopped and pooled in an area of near four feet in diameter. On the back wall, painted in blood was your very own Dark Mark, My Lord.”

“My Mark?! Are you sure?” The Dark Lord was leaning slightly forward with his hands braced on the arms of his chair. A look anger blooming on his features.

“Very sure, My Lord.”

“And the boy, is he dead?”

“There was no body in the living room. However the dining room held three bodies, Potter's late relatives. All dead, suffered some form of disemboweling curse which has the effects of making the victim look like they exploded. The carnage was devastating, My Lord. It was worse than some of the torture methods used in the last war.”

“None bearing my Mark have come forward to take credit for assaulting Potter. And had they I would have killed them where they stood for blatant disobedience. I called a cease fire on Potter two weeks ago.”

“I am aware, My Lord. I don't believe any Death Eater was responsible. I cast spells to test the blood. The two rooms are isolated. If it were a single crime committed then the blood of the muggles would have intermingled with the traces of wizads blood when the murderer walked from room to room. Furthermore, the wizards blood was donated willingly, the spell to test for blood theft came back silver. It was purposefully dumped on the floor. The living room was obvious overkill without reasoning, it looked like a tornado hit the room around the blood. It made no sense at first. The dining room was like an internal bomb went off, it was localized to the three muggles, not the room around them. That was a personal revenge killing. No one within your forces knew that family.”

“Are you saying what I presume you are saying?”

“I believe Harry Potter killed his relatives, faked his own death, blamed you and your forces to throw the Light off his trail, and disappeared.” Severus said bluntly.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and turned his gaze away in serious thought. When he looked back he found the cognac had arrived without his notice. Damn elves had perfect timing. “You said Lupin was with you, where is now?”

Severus smirked ruefully. “At this moment he is pulling the wool over Dumbledore's eyes. He has lost all faith in the headmaster and he refuses to let him get his hands on Potter. Since Potter is in the wind, Lupin will be the one to inform the headmaster that Potter is where he is supposed to be for the foreseeable future, when in reality he will be trying to locate Potter. Right now his werewolf's instinct is screaming at him to find his lost cub. I want to let him handle the search until he asks for assistance.” 

Voldemort nodded, “Very well. I was going suggest a search for Potter, but with a werewolf already on the trail that line of work is covered. Dumbledore is none the wiser yet, but what about the house? Can others access the crime scene?”

“There is no crime scene to access, My Lord. Lupin and I cleaned house just before we left not twenty minutes ago.”

Voldemort’s twisted into a pleased smirk. “Very good, Severus. I only have one question now. Why would Potter commit murder and fake his own death?”

“I only have suspicions, My Lord, but I would hazard gues it may have something to do with the loss of Sirius Black, Potter's godfather, and the subsequent meeting in Dumbledore's Office gone wrong. Whatever was said caused Potter to lose control of his magic and destroyed the room. Since then he became antisocial, sarcastic, and bitter. He refused to attend classes but he would sit in for exams and aced them. No search parties could find his hiding place or figure out how he was getting around without being caught.”

Voldemort only nodded his head. “It seems we have a very pissed off, young man with a lot of power to find. How long has he been missing?”

“I am not certain, but I presume up to four days, My Lord. He was supposed to inform the order by owl every three days, that's three days without contact or surveillance, and we didn't check it out until the fourth day. That's a lot of time for one disappear in.”

“Fuck.” Voldemort’s composure slipped for a moment as he covered his eyes. He took a moment to pour a glass of the prized alcohol. He downed half the liquid, hissed and then exhaled a small billow of heat. “Help Lupin however you can, we either need to find that boy or we need to get out of his way.”

“My Lord? Get out of his way?” Severus was not expecting this reaction from the Dark Lord.

“He has been betrayed. He will get what he is due, by force or otherwise. When he left that office he started planning. Murdering his relatives was the attention getter, they were part of the betrayal so he took his vengeance on them. The Dark Mark was the diversion to give him a head start. With a four day interval I say he got that head start. If he's not on the warpath yet, he will be. If you find him, I suggest you be very transparent with him.” He finished his glass with another his of heat. “I'm sorry Severus, but I must ask you to leave. If he is on the very same path I went down, then I have a few contacts who will need to be aware of this new variable.”

“Ah, I understand now, My Lord. I believe I have a werewolf to catch up with.” Severus stood and bowed before his Master. “I wish you a good evening.”

“Thank you, Severus, for bring this to my immediate attention. Your service is unwavering as always.”

As Severus left, his Master drew a breath and steeled his resolve. This was the last straw. That damned, god-playing man has manipulated his last puppet show. He's manipulated Voldemort himself into targeting a child, something precious to the magical world. The same child he lead to believe that he had no choice but to fight a war he had no idea about until he turned eleven. He was slowly turning Harry into a another version of an isolated and betrayed Tom Riddle bent on power and vengeance. He could not allow this to happen. The boy was owed a great deal in blood alone to the family he never had for the their murder. That is understandable. But he could very easily cross that invisible line between Britain's Savior and the next Dark Lord. He couldn't allow this to happen. 

After a second shot, he left for his study. He had letters to write. There were a few people he had in mind that could help further his own agenda, that he would want to set in Harry's path, so that they both can get what they want.


	9. Teacher

It has been nearly a fortnight since Gabriel embarked on his privet campaign for individual independence. Almost two weeks of living in peaceful anonymity among the shadows of society, gathering knowledge and carving his own niche. Within the relative safety of The Hole in The Wall tavern, he is free to expand his magic; learning and relearning to use the internal pathways within his body that allow his magic to effect his environment. Between the hours spent working in the tavern alongside Rowan and Carra, Gabriel spends his time studying in his apartment the types of magic that he will need to learn if he is going to stand a chance at his new school let alone compete against multiple races of creatures. Lately his favorite past time has become exchanging tidbits of knowledge with his customers. Many recommend books that might be useful which he then collects for his own privet library.

Gabriel also works to maintain his convincing alias, Angel. He picked up multiple books on feminine and beauty charms which he uses to style his hair and improve things like skin care. One day he gathered the courage to go to a muggle woman's boutique, as Angel, catering to females necessities of clothes, lingerie, make up, and a whole array of lotions and potions that contribute to making one beautiful. He had asked one the assistants to teach him how to apply make up, using the excuse that he never had anyone to teach him properly. Taking pity on him, two assistants sat him down at the counter in front of a lit mirror. One of the women explained and applied the products they introduced him to while the other gathered the products that he liked and wished to buy. Afterwards he went to their lingerie section where he had another assistant take his measurements and fitted him for bras suitable for his bust size. The result was an equally beautiful, but improved, Gabriel known to most as Rowan and Carra's niece, Angel.

This morning Angel was busy weaving between tables during breakfast with her floating tray a step behind, loaded with steaming plates and clinking tea cups. The high-low hem of her black lace skirt fluttered around her long, bare legs. The leather bodice hugged her curves and cupped her breasts, perfectly accentuating her silhouette and making her peaches and cream skin tone glow. Her hair was drawn back in her favorite braid but a few strands were already escaping. She still battles to tame her mane- charms not withstanding.

Ever since coming into contact with the raw power that is natural earth based magic within Master Taite's dwelling and Madame Elfie's workshop, Gabriel had become nearly obsessed with finding every piece of information he can about it and how he can regularly connect with it. So far he has very little luck with the search for what he felt in that cavern. In the process he has found books detailing elemental rituals of what muggles would assume to be Wicca offerings to certain Spirits and/or Gods. When in facts they are the earliest recordings of Wizarding religious Sabbaths and Druid rituals Dedicated to the God and Goddess of Magic. He never heard of anything like this at Hogwarts, so it was either lost over the centuries or it was removed from the curriculum. Whatever the case, Gabriel was interested enough that he was adapting the practices to his own abilities. Over the span of a fortnight his apartment had transformed into a mini apothecary with plants, crystals and gems, scrying mirrors and incense scattered between his privet kitchen and living area. So far he had only managed to supply the rituals with his own magic which left him tired- unused to stretching his magic in a strange way. He has yet to tap into that all-consuming power of the Earth's wild magic. 

As Angel swerved around a customer's chair to avoid being backed into, her concentration on the hover charm on the serving tray slipped and the whole thing would have hit the floor if it not for the yellow light of a cushioning charm catching the tray just inches from the hard wood floor. Angels wide eyes flicked upward from the tray, and where she expected the resounding crash and mess, to the front door where a stranger had just crossed the threshold. The man was definitely strange, most likely foreign and his magic felt odd.

Angel slowly bent over to retrieve the tray, but her guarded eyes never left the man at the door. The magic holding the tray dissipated as soon as her hands touched it but she still felt the signature of the magic behind the charm. It was warm and reminded her of sand, tangible yet free flowing. The man himself was tall and lean with a sun kissed tan. His face was ovular with an angular jawline, set with light green eyes, a straight nose and thin lips that were pulled in a light, serene smile. He had very little hair as it was shaved very short and looked a bit like five o'clock shadow. He was wearing a dark gold traditional kasaya, Tibetan robes, with emerald over robes and flat open toe sandals. He held a light wood staff in his left hand and a brown pack was slung over his right shoulder. He appeared to be just a simple traveler, but his magic belied him to be more than simple.

All the customers, after having their fill of gawking, returned to minding their own business. But Angel couldn't overlook this stranger, that was just poor customer service. She stepped forward out of the throng of chairs and tables inhabited with random people. As she approached her subject of inquiry she could see Uncle Rowan in her peripheral come around to the open end of the bar, ready to intervene. She didn't feel threatened by this man, however, erring on the side of caution never hurt.

She spoke when she stood in front of him. “Thank you, Sir, for your quick charm. My name is Angel, and I am a waitress and inhabitant of this establishment. May I be of service to you.” Angel said sincerely with a slight bow.

The man regarded her, looking down and up again, finally making full eye contact. Those light eyes felt like they knew her secrets and sins, her passions and joy. Despite possibly knowing the good, the bad, and the ugliest parts of him/her and their combined flaws, he smiled. The corners of his lips and eyes crinkled as his cheeks lifted. It was a rather nice smile.

“True kindness is rare in the world, and yours is greatly appreciated.” His accent was definitely foreign but his English was superb. He sounded Indian or possibly Persian. “I am need of sustenance and shelter for an unknown amount of time. I have been turned away everywhere else. You are the first to respond with a genuine offer of aid.”

“I apologize for my fellow countrymen and their lack humanity and common decency. I only hope we here can atone for their deficiencies. Please come in, Sir. I can get you a hot meal, while Auntie Cara helps you with room and board.”

“Thank you. I promise, I don't require more than what's necessary.”

“Nonsense. A good meal and a warm bed are a basic human right. What's necessary is the populace's re-education in love, compassion and mercy. Now, it's considered to be breakfast time, but we serve anything at any time. What can I get for you?”

“Could I request fruit, yogurt, and a boiled egg with water, please Miss Angel?” He asked with a quiet, gentle tone.

“Of course. I'll handle it personally while I send Auntie Cara out to see you.” Angel gave another small bow and then left the man in a private booth for the kitchen.

Cara was wrist deep in flour, as was customary for her, when Angel found her. A knife was self- peeling potatoes and another was dicing fruits and veggies near by. She looked up and smiled brightly.  
“Hey, sweetheart. What do you need?”

“I have a gentleman from a foreign country waiting in the dining room. He wishes to rent a room. I told him that I would send you out while I fixed his breakfast order.”

“Oh! I'll be right out.” She lifted her hands out of the bowl of flour mixture and heaved herself off the stool. When she stood she swayed forwards before regaining her balance. Angel went to her side and wrapped her up in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah. My center of gravity used to be between my hips. Now It's a separate entity free floating in front of me, so my body tries to keep up with my belly.” Cara laughed.

“As long you're good. Here,” Angel snapped her fingers and the flour caking Cara's hands disappeared to leave them clean and sanitized. “Squeaky clean.” She kissed Cara's cheek for good measure.

“Thank you, Angel. I better go see to our new boarder.”

Angel watched her waddle away for a moment, smiling fondly. She had an order to fill in the mean time. Within ten minutes she had a bowl of fresh fruits, a cup of cold yogurt drizzled with honey, and a boiled egg in an egg cup all sitting delicately on a new tray. The water, however, was special. Angel pulled a large, clear crystal decanter that she crafted herself with pure magic from a dark cabinet. The liquid inside faintly glowed a pale blue-white. Water that has been blessed by the Goddess and left to absorb the moons light is powerful enough to heal minor illnesses and cure depression. Wiccan witches used it for blessings, cleansing rituals and calling the Quarters. Now Angel used it to brighten her customers day. Every patron that sipped this water would feel peace, something to remind them that all is right in the world. No added potions to influence anyone. The water was poured and as soon it entered the glass it ceased to glow. Her newest acquaintance needed to know that he was welcome here. Hopefully this did the trick.

Cara was just re-entering the kitchen when Angel picked up the tray. “You have great timing, Angel. Mr. Dhatri and I just finished with fidelius contract.”

Dhatri. So that was his name. “Well, I shouldn't keep him waiting.”  
He was exactly where she left him, in a secluded booth, quiet and undisturbed. His belongings were sat on the opposite bench. He simply examined his surroundings with half lidded eyes. When those eyes landed on Angel as she approached they sparkled a bit as if he was genuinely happy to see her.

“Hello again, Mr. Dhatri. I have your breakfast, just as you requested. I'm glad you will staying with us, and I hope you find whatever it seems you are searching for.”

He smiled. “Simply Dhatri, please. No honorifics are necessary. Thank you for your hospitality, your kind Aunt speaks highly of you and your talents.” Angel blushed at the compliment. “What makes you believe I'm searching for something?”

“There are few reasons for one travel so far from home. If you left of your own volition then you must have a purpose. I won't pry. I will, however, wish you fortune in your endeavors.” 

“And I wish you the same. Such wisdom in one so young is bittersweet, whatever price you payed must have been great.”

Angels eyes darkened with a myriad of emotions. “Great, yes. Terrible, but great. Please excuse me, I must return to my work. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Dhatri.” She half- bowed and turned away to resume waiting on the throng of people surrounding them.

 

It was almost an hour later, the crowd thinned and Angel was clearing the room. She noticed that Mr. Dhatri was still quietly seated and seemingly staring into his water glass which was still half full. He had his elbows on the table and his hands were steepled under his chin with a serious expression.

“Mr. Dhatri,” Angel asked quietly. Despite her tone he startled slightly. “Is there a problem?”

“Please, tell me. Where did this water come from?” His voice was hushed but excited.

Angel stared into his eyes, wondering if she could trust him. If nothing else, she could disappear again if she had to. With hardened resolve, she lifted a hand and summoned the decanter of water. When it floated into her hand she set it on the table. The glowing water swirled with internal light before the mans' astonishment. “I made it. Moon Water.”

“Blessed by the Moon Goddess? Consecrated healing water?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have help?”

“Besides that of a book? No, I practice alone.”

“Are you an Elemental with an affinity for water spells or a simple witch using olde magick?”

Angel smirked. “Both.”

Dhatri smiled wide. “I have completed my journey. I have been searching for a student capable of the elemental arts. I am one of twelve children of the Goddess Aditi, we are known as the Adityas. Aditi is the goddess of the boundless sky, her name means free from bonds or limitless and she is all-consuming. The Adityas are protectors and teachers of magic. Every so many years one of us will take a student in order to pass on our knowledge and keep magic alive. I am an Elemental and I wish to pass on the knowledge of my art. Will you be my student?”

Angel was stunned. This absolute stranger wondered into her life, completely unaware of her own past and circumstances, wishing to teach her the Elemental Arts simply because she made Moon Water. “Let me see if I understand. You want to teach me because I, uh, made Moon Water? Why?”

“Making this proves that you have potential for other water based magics and even healing magics.”

“If I am going to be your student then we need to have a long conversation. You need to be aware of what you are taking on.” Angel's tone became solemn, preparing for a long, serious talk followed by questions and possibly rejection with a side of obliviation.


	10. Demonic Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for my long absence here is a long chapter for all my loyal readers in thanks for your patience.  
> -Your Angel <3

The potronus message told Severus to meet Remus at the Shrieking Shack. Now here he was, standing inside the shack among the oppressive dust and rotting wood, the time was nearing midnight and he had just about enough of the depressing cold blowing through the walls. His warming charm was starting to fail when he heard footsteps at the shack's entrance. It was Remus, brushing dirt and leaves from his cloak, his hair was a mess and he smelled of the damp forest.

“Severus,” Remus called out. “I know you're there, I can smell you.” With the full moon only two days away, Moony was close to the surface and it showed. That was why Severus was cautious when showing himself.”

“What have you found out?” He approached slowly, showing submission by not meeting the wolfs golden eyes.”

“My pup has friends in low places that hold him in high regard. I met Firenze, the centaur, told him that Harry was missing, possibly for four days, his only relatives were found dead and that there was a Dark Mark found at the scene. I needed to know if Harry ever said anything to anyone about plans of running away. Firenze found it strange that the “Heart of the Forest” would flee. Apparently Harry has become a fixture to the residents of the forest since his first year. Firenze said if he can't be found then he has been forced to hide. He wished me luck in finding him, since he has won every game of hide and seek against the centaurs best hunters.”

“Well that doesn't help us at all. If we are going to find him we need a lead.”

“I know, that's why I stopped asking around the forest. I had a thought that if Harry had made non-human friends here, then he could have made friends elsewhere. I know he hasn't been anywhere magical besides Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. It hit me out there in that damn forest that he spent a significant amount of time at Diagon before his third year. He might have made contacts there.”

“It's a stretch, but we should check it out to be sure. Who would he have talked to?”

“ We should probably cast a wide net and ask around, he would have made friends with anyone he probably shouldn't, a bit like Hagrid I'd reckon. He has a habit for talking to outcasts and those that are non-human. I'd like to talk to the Goblins to see if he's been seen at all.”

“Very well then.” Severus sighed. “We can start in the morning, since we can't pick that bone at this bloody hour. Are you still spoon feeding the Headmaster fake updates from the boy?”

“Of course, I even have one ready for delivery after the full moon while I'm indisposed.”

“Alright. I'll meet you at the leaky Cauldron at eight o'clock. I'm going to get some sleep while it's still a possibility.”  
“Same here. Good night, Severus.” 

Lord Voldemort didn't like to be kept waiting usually, however as he was waiting on an arriving guest from Russia, the delay could be excused. He was just impatient. This was the Russian Magical Mafia Lord that he was waiting on. He contacted him for a meeting to discuss the use of his assets in the search for the missing boy who lived. It's not that he didn't trust Severus to do the job, but Severus could only do so much and no one know how far the boy could have gotten or where he was headed. He needed international assistance. Severus told him that Potter had a habit of making friends in low places. So he called on Sergei Raisa, Crime Lord, self-proclimed Lowest of the Low, an incubus and good friend.

“Master! Guests be arriving promptly! I be having an elf show them to your office, Master.”

“Thank you, Brownie. Please prepare drinks for us as well.”

“Yes, Master!” The little elf popped away to do as he was told.

As he was already in his private office the Dark Lord simply left his desk to sit before the fireplace and get comfortable. He hadn't quite settled when the door opened to emit his expectant guests. The tallest of the two stood proud at six feet and four inches, tanned, with broad shoulders, huge muscles bulging under his three piece suit. His shoulder length black hair had light streaks of gray through it, added to the whiskey color of his eyes and the smirk on those thin lips and the dark goatee on his chin made him roguishly handsome. However, it was the predatory gait, the hint of sharp fangs, and the black claws adorning the long fingers that gently held a lit cigar aloft that alluded to the danger. 

Behind and to the right, the second man seemed to be unassuming at just under six feet, young, with auburn hair, long and pulled back, light tan skin, thin nose and lips, and similar whiskey eyes and toned swimmer body. The same fangs and black claws made that unassuming stature a very thin facade. But perhaps the most disturbing quality was the amount of facial piercings and scars the youth had. On each side of his mouth, three gold studs through his cheeks pulled the line of his mouth eerily wide. A gold ring dangled in his septum. Not to mention the three rings lining each slightly pointed ear. A long silver scar ran down his face from his hairline through his right eye and down his neck under the collar of his suit. He was no less alluring but he was certainly a mystery.

Voldemort stood to greet them, giving a half-bow in respect and offering his wand hand in a show of non-aggression. “Lord Raisa, I am very pleased you accepted my invitation on such sort notice. I understand you're as busy as myself, however the current situation requires more than my own resources.”

“Lord Voldemort, it is good to see you again even under these strained circumstances.” His voice was deep but soft with an undertone of a purring growl. “Let me introduce my Heir and eldest son, Sasha. He is shadowing me in preparation of becoming the next Lord Raisa.”

The young man didn't speak a word, just bowed his head in acknowledgment. 

“Wonderful. I'm sure he will make you very proud. Please join me by the fire for drinks while we talk.”

“Thank you, we shall.” 

The two Lords settled into the two high back chairs on either side of the coffee table, while the youngest of them seated himself on the love seat behind the table with a perfect view to watch the conversation. Once everyone had a full tumbler the silence broke.

“ You made mention of needing resources. What problem would constitute foreign assistance, least of all in my line of work?” 

“My problem is not exactly public knowledge, and I prefer to keep it that way. Discretion is paramount in finding a certain asset. Whether he is ally or enemy does not matter right now, but his unknown location causes me concern for his safety. I ask for assistance because he may or may not be in the country and you are very discreet, my friend.”

“Let me reiterate. Your 'asset' is missing, location unknown by the 'public', I presume the Light. He is unaffiliated with either Sect of this war. He may have fled the country. And you are concerned for the welfare of a possible enemy.”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, well now I am quite curious. Tell me, Friend, if I am to help you, may I know the name of this asset?”

“Of course, though you may not believe me.”

Sergei smirked behind his tumbler. “Try me.”

Voldemort looked the Mafia Lord dead in the eye. “Harry Potter.”

Sergei swallowed his whiskey too fast and coughed hard on the heat. Sasha watched his father with deep concern having never seen his father caught off guard.

“Are you telling me Harry Potter was kidnapped!?”

“Not kidnapped. Disappeared.”

“Harry bloody Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, and Dumbledore's pet, has disappeared? How?”

“I have proof that he tried to fake his own death, murdered his own relatives and painted the Dark Mark above the crime scene to blame the Dark forces, and left no trace of himself. We found the three bodies of his muggle relatives, massacred at their dinner table, a sizable pool of blood in the next room, but no body of the Boy-Who-Lived. When my spy discovered the scene he determined Potter to have been missing at least four days previously. That was twelve days ago, and there is still no sign of him and I even have an alpha werewolf, who considers Potter to be his own cub, heading the search.” 

“Alpha, eh? How is he handling it?”  
“I haven't met him myself, but my spy that's partnered with him says he's been going between sick with worry and impressed with the way his cub has managed to cover his tracks. The werewolf I question was part of group of pranksters in school. One of the other members was Potter's father. Apparently the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

“I half expected this alpha to go on a rampage. To separate a werewolf and their cub is like asking to see what your intestines would look like wrapped around your own neck.”

“I am as impressed as you are, my friend. However, I won't look that gift hippogriff in the mouth.” 

“What proof do you have that Potter did as you say?”

I have my spies memories of the investigation into Potter's whereabouts. If you want to view the Pencieve, I must ask you take an Oath not to reveal the information provided.”

“Very well.”

Voldemort snapped his fingers for a house elf. The creature popped into the room beside Voldemort's chair. “Brownie, please bring my Pencieve to this room.”

“Yes, Master!” She squeaked.

Voldemort's guests both proclaimed the Oath while they waited. When the Stone basin was placed on the table they all leaned forward in their seats. “Simply placing a finger in the memory will suffice. No need to dunk your heads in it.”

All three dipped a finger into the silver mist of cool liquid and they were swept into the memory. When the images stopped spinning around them they were standing in a suburban residential area, in the dark facing a house whose door was thrown wide open and the lights inside were darkened. They watched two men approach the house. One with dark hair and a roman nose. The other had light brown hair and glowing amber eyes. 

“Your spy and the werewolf, I presume.” Sergei remarked. Voldemort nodded to the affirmative.

::Remus stopped and put a hand out to stop Severus. “Wait! I smell blood. A lot of blood.” His voice was hitched from fear of what they might find.

“Can you smell Harry?” Severus asked.

Remus nodded, “I smell him but the blood is over riding it”

“Well, we'll get no answers standing out here.”::

The memory lead the three men into the darkened house they watched as Severus cast a Lumos only for Remus to exclaim his shock. :: “Severus look!”::

As one, they all followed his direction to see the small door hanging open half way into the entry hall, under the stairs. They can see the blood, but upon closer inspection, they find small claw-like marks on the door. Inside the cupboard, for that's what it was, there was a small puddle of blood and the smell of urine was old. The blood trail lead out of the cupboard and it appeared that a bleeding body was dragged across the hall, over the white carpet.

Sergei cursed in Russian at the amount of blood spilled while his son gasped and covered his mouth in shock. Voldemort's eyes were narrowed as he reanalyzed everything. This wasn't his first venture into the memory and he was hoping that some fresh eyes could help him dissuade more clues.

They followed Severus and Remus to the living room where their shock reached new heights. The dissaster of the space was overpowered by the morbid sorrow brought on by the vision of that huge pool of blood. As they took in the horror they heard Remus breakdown and dash out of the room as Severus closed his eyes, listening for the inevitable. Doors slammed upstairs and footsteps thundered above before they heard the gut wrenching sobs of a broken man. The watched Severus walk out to comfort the wolf.

::“HE'S GONE!!” Remus wailed. “HARRY'S GONE!.... my pup..all I had left..I should have brought him back with me. I would have protected him. After Sirius, Harry was all I had.. oh my sweet puppy. Why? Why did he have to be dragged into this war? Why did Dumbledore force him to grow up so fast? He was just a child in all of this!” ::

“Niegadzai! He not only has a pack bond with the child; 'puppy' means he has a parental claim.”

::“I have no answers for you my friend. But I will get them for you. First of all, I'm not sure if this was a Death Eater raid as that Dark Mark might persuade us to think. If this happened within the last four days no Death Eater would have kept quiet about killing off Potter for their Master. Besides, He has ordered everyone to leave the brat alone. He knows Dumbledore is using him as a pawn for reasons that are yet unclear. His last supposed attempt on the boy, he was actually trying to possess him long enough to tell him the truth. But he was faced with Dumbledore while trying to focus on the connection as well. Something else happened here, I'm just not sure what.”

Remus wiped his face and sniffled, when he gagged on the scent of rotting flesh. “Oh Merlin! What is that smell? Smells like dead, rotting pig. Where is it coming from?”::

As it was a memory, the three watchers couldn't smell anything let alone what was being described. They could only follow Severus as he went to investigate and stood behind him taking in the scene before them. The exploded bodies of the three Dursleys laid in their own blood, bile and excrement looking like they swallowed dynamite. Their abdominal cavities were burst open and their organs were hardly recognizable. Poor Sasha looked like he was going to be sick, but his father had a wide eyed expression, like he was impressed.

:: “Remus. I hope you have a strong stomach.” Severus called out to the wolf.

“Why? What is it?”

“Looks like a couple of rotting pigs.” Severus said sardonically as he pulled a handkerchief lace with anise to cover his nose. :: 

Sergei chuckled. “I like your spy.”

::“What?!” Remus exclaimed. As he approached Severus pulled a second anise lace cloth from his pocket and offered it wordlessly. Remus turned to the sight and almost wretched then and there. “Dear Merlin! Who the hell did this?” He asked as he gratefully took the handkerchief.

“I would hazard a guess it was either some sick fuck, or this was revenge. Something doesn't make sense here. The amount of violence suggests that the murderer knew them on a personal level. This wasn't mere death eaters going over board. They might spill blood, but the room wouldn't look like a slaughter house.”

“You're sure about that? What do you make of that Dark Mark on the wall?”

“I noticed that the blood doesn't mix. Look, I'll identify the blood.” Severus swished his wand and the blood from the three bodies glowed three different colors of dull blue yellow and green that dripped down the walls and swirled together on the floor. “The dull tones indicate the lack of magic in the muggles. Now if I check the blood in the living room,” Another swish of a wand and the blood glowed vivid Avada Kedavra green. “ That is the magical signature of a wizard. This looks like two different crime scenes. The muggles were messy, personal with an undertone of revenge. But this looks like violence and torture according to the floor with a supposed signature of the Dark Lord. I know for a fact that the Dark is not aware of this. And another thing; where is the body?”::

“I really like your spy!”

::“Should we tell Dumbledore? I know he has tracers on Harry, he is our first priority here.”

“Not until I know what happened here. I have one more spell to cast.” Severus knelt down to dip the tip of his wand in the blood. “Sanguis volens.” The blood rippled and shimmered silver like unicorn blood, before returning to the dark red-brown state is was before. “Shit!”

“What is it, Severus?” Asked Remus.

“This blood was donated willingly. This room was not a murder, if it was the result would have been black, not silver.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that Harry Potter faked his own death, murdered his relatives and blamed it on the Dark to throw the Light side off his trail! He's probably been in the wind since the summer started.”::

“You said the boy was fifteen, no?” Sergei inquired of Voldemort

“That is correct, my friend.” Voldemort nodded the affirmative, with a slight smirk. He knew this memory was playing on the Incubus' blood lust.

“I simply must meet him.” 

::“Sonuvabitch! I knew I should have taken him home with me. If I did this wouldn't have happened. I need to find him. I'm done with Dumbledore thinking he can protect him when it looks like his protections turn around to bite him in the ass.” He brandished his wand and cast Point-Me. The wand just spun in his palm with no purpose. ”Shit! That kid is good. Where would he go?”

“It looks like our golden boy lost the same faith in the Light that you did. If he's really abandoned the Light I need to tell the Dark Lord. First we need to keep Dumbledore blind to this as long as possible.”

“Right. Then I suppose we have to keep him and the Order from finding this mess. If you mind cleaning up the dinning room, I take this room. Afterwards you can go to your Lord, I'll figure out a song and dance before I get to Hogwarts. Then I am going looking for my pup.”::

As the two finished the cleanup and warded the house against anyone besides themselves. The three men stood there in various elements of contemplation watching and analyzing the scene. When the memory ended they were ejected out of the pencieve and back into the reality that was the comfortable office. Although the atmosphere seemed to be less than comfortable with new revelations being disclosed. 

Sergei took a long drink of his whiskey before he spoke. “A fifteen year old has managed to do all that and remain undetected for almost two weeks. The amount of blood in that living room suggests murder, but that spell proves it was donated blood. He had to have siphoning off his blood for a while to have that amount at his disposal. This was premeditated. Those dead bodies had a feel of vengeance but their purpose was overshadowing. They were a distraction. He wants us to focus on the dead bodies and agonize over the obviously missing body. The false signature was a 'nail in the coffin'. A false lead. I think if any one other than your spy found that scene then the entire wizarding world would be running in circles like he wants.”

Voldemort swirled his tumbler, staring over it at the Incubus Lord. “All of which I have already deduced. I cannot, however, decide on a direction to lead the search for the boy. The spells can't locate him to even get a general area to begin the search. I need many eyes to search on the ground but my own people are too noticeable.”  
“If I help you, I insist on meeting the child that harbors so much blood lust, vengeance, and.. creativity. My people will locate him but he will be brought to one of my safe houses, where you can find him and talk to him. You can use it as neutral territory.”

“Thank you, Friend. I can agree to your terms and I understand you could have asked for more. However, since I only wish to see the child to speak to him and see he is safe, I can only hope that you do as well.”

“His safety in this war is paramount. He shouldn't have to fight for anyone let alone the lies that I'm sure he was fed. At this point he is an enigma that I'm very curious about. Sasha, what are your thoughts?”

The young man on the settee took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Find him. Fast. He has hidden and is readying himself for a fight. Find him before he gains momentum or he will debase everything. If the Light find out he's gone before you find him they will strike in false revenge. He wishes to do as much damage without being responsible. Then he will finish off who over is left over in their weakness. I wish to help as much as I can before I leave for school in Greece. I have many creature friends with enhanced senses that can help.”

Sergei nodded his head slowly and turned a hard gaze back to Voldemort. “There you have it. We will find him.”

Voldemort stood and offered a hand to the Mafia Lord, who stood and took the pale cold hand. “Thank you, my old friend. I have all the confidence that your help will advance our search tenfold. I will compensate you or the assistance, of course.”

Sergei laughed wryly. “Of course. My help isn't cheap after all.”


	11. Lesson One

The conversation that took place in that dinning room was the most emotionally exhausting thing to happen to Gabriel since he went into hiding. He didn't withhold anything and nothing was sugar coated. He had erected a privacy bubble over Dhatri's table before he sat down. There were still a few people sat at the bar that had no reason to be privy to his fucked up life. 

He told Dhatri who he was, which earned him a confused expression for the obvious gender differences, but as he continued that expression shifted. Sadness was prominent along with myriad of other emotions. Gabriel mostly stared into the decanter of Moon water as he hashed out his life's story. He couldn't focus on Dhatri's eyes, it felt like he was a sinner in confession and he knew he didn't deserve forgiveness but he couldn't face the rejection head on either. When Gabriel admitted to murdering his relatives, going into hiding and taking on his new identity and the reasons for his appearance, he cited his ambition for self preservation and survival played a large role in spurring him onward. He told Dhatri that he planned to train himself for the summer to prepare for his acceptance into Mount Olympus Academy of Mages; that he would do whatever was necessary to survive his education in order to become powerful enough to change the tides of this damned war, even selfishly indulge in cross dressing to fool people into underestimating him.

Dhatri's kind eyes never wavered from Gabriel. He sat back in the booth and regarded Gabriel.  
“You have certainly paid a great price on your journey so far. A child forced to see the world with mistrust and become a soldier. Told what to do and to do as you're told.” He shook his head in shame.  
“Most would say that you were forced to make those hard choices and in some cases they are right. I must ask you; do you regret murdering three people?”

Gabriel made eye contact for a moment before his eyes took on a distant gaze, remembering when he didn't know what love was let alone his own name. “I had time to ponder how I would feel before I murdered them. Afterwards I still replayed my actions and analyzed my emotions. I didn't feel trepidation before and there was no aftertaste of regret after. I took three lives and sent three souls to the world beyond, yes. But those sad excuses for humans didn't deserve the gift that is living anymore than I deserved years of abuse and neglect at their hands. I took the debt that I was owed in their blood and life force. Justice was served that night, not just at my hands either. Magic, herself, sanctioned it before I left Hogwarts and I had asked The Mother to bless my pursuit of justice. I refuse to live with a self-imposed regret if my actions were authorized by the The Mother herself.” Gabriel expected his reasoning to be met with animosity but he was surprised to be met with a devious smirk and understanding.

“That is why you would be a good candidate for an apprenticeship. My people don't walk the path of a singular denomination. We accept and practice All magics, none of which are considered Light, Dark or Grey. All magic just is. Equally powerful and dangerous if you do not respect it. What most have classified as Light magic has a base in healing and improving life. Dark magics have a base in the 'forbidden arts' such as necromancy and blood magic. Those arts are practiced by few and understood by fewer still.”

A memory flashed before Gabriel's minds eye. “Someone once told me that there is no Light and Dark. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. I suppose it must be true.”

Dhatri raised an eyebrow curiously. “Not necessarily. It is possible to seek power and never obtain it no matter what you do. Some magics are only obtainable because one is biologically capable of performing such magic. Such as your ability of parseltongue, very few are capable of the serpent magics. You may be an Elemental, but that does not mean you are capable of manipulating fire even if you wanted to. There are some magics that some people simply can't perform.”

“I had a diagnostic ritual done to test for magical talents so that I knew what to study for come Fall. If you can help me prepare for school and train me, I will accept the apprenticeship.”

“My endeavor would be to help you reach your full potential any way that I can. I propose a part-time apprenticeship. You would be my student during the holiday months. It would mean more work, but you could possibly test out of certain subjects and push forward in your courses.”

Gabriel smiled. “You have a deal.” 

That was yesterday. Today marked the start of his Elemental Apprenticeship. Dhatri introduced a rigorous physical fitness program that was meant to test and stretch his body's physical capabilities and prepare him for the arduous demands his magic will put on his body when he grows into his full power. He was up by dawn and they had apparated to a forest clearing where they would train undisturbed. Come noon he was an exhausted sweaty mess, he had yet to do any magic and he was ready to collapse. Dhatri was an intense task master. 

“Very good, Ila, not bad for your first training session. Soon you will be able to do all this as if you were breathing. I fear you will come to hate me before that happens, however.” Dhatri chuckled.

“Thank you, sir.” Gabriel panted. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“You have called me Ila several times today. Why?”

“Ah,” Dhatri sat down on a tree stump. “Where I am from we have whole gatherings of people like yourself. Androgynous males and females that indulge and celebrate beauty and equality of gender. They are known as Ailas, the descendants of Ila. While many versions of the tale exist, Ila is usually described as a daughter or son of Vaivasvata Manu and thus the sibling of Ikshvaku, the founder of the Solar Dynasty. In versions in which Ila is born female, she changes into a male form by divine grace soon after her birth. After mistakenly entering a sacred grove as an adult, Ila is either cursed to change his/her gender every month or cursed to become a woman. As a woman, Ilā married Budha, the god of the planet Mercury and the son of the lunar deity Chandra, and bore him a son called Pururavas, the father of the Lunar dynasty. After the birth of Pururavas, Ilā is transformed into a man again and fathered three sons. In the Vedas, Ilā is praised as the goddess of speech, and described as mother of Pururavas. Her kindness was far reaching and her heart was great. She was powerful and fiercely protective of the innocent. You remind me of the myths.”

“Oh.” Gabriel blushed. He hadn't expected such a deep depiction of himself. Although he had had similar experiences before, it always seemed to catch him off guard when it reoccurred. “I appreciate the compliment.”

“Even if you do not believe it?” Dhatri chuckled.

“What?”

“You seem to find yourself undeserving of praise, despite the honesty behind the words.”

“I learned a long time ago that people either say things they don't mean, or they say things that they won't mean tomorrow. People in general are fickle-minded and I have learned to say thank you today and fuck you tomorrow as a reflex. It's why I have such good relations with magical creatures and Beings. They have no reason to feed into the hype that is, was my fame. I spent a lot of time in the Forbidden Forest while at school, talking to and learning from the residents things that no one thought to teach me.”

“I am sorry. You should not have to lose faith in humanity, to appreciate the kindness of non-humans. I hope we can develop a relationship based on friendship and trust someday, not just teacher and student.”

“I hope so too.”

Gabriel had finally caught his breath when Dhatri stood, stretched and walked to the edge of the clearing. He turned back to Gabriel and smiled. “Are you ready for your first lesson in magic?”

Gabriel eagerly followed his teacher beyond the tree line and through the undergrowth to a babbling creek. The sound of water flowing over rock was soothing. He felt peace overtake his mind while he watched the water flow slightly down hill and under a narrow bridge. Dhatri led him to the bridge but stopped as they came to the middle where the sound was the loudest. 

“Take notice of the flow of the creek; where does the water pool before moving on, where does it pick up speed and what possibly stops the flow altogether. Rocks and debris slow the water and divert it until we remove them. There is a delicate balance to maintaining the constant and consistent flow just like the balance necessary when using and maintaining the ebb and flow of magic. It matters not what type of magic, all magics are one current flowing through every living thing. When you throw the balance off the ebb doesn't flow. Do you understand?”

“I understand the theory, yes. But where do I come in? If I am to help restore the balance, how do I fix the current?”

“Ah, Ila,” Dhatri sighed and laid a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. “To bring balance to the world and restore magic you must first struggle to obtain balance within. Water flows in a stream like energy flows through your body. The stream that flows within us has many ponds where water swirls around before going on its way. These ponds are our Chakras and the water is our energy. If there was nothing around this stream would flow freely and pure. But life is messy and complex, so things tend to fall in. These things block the pond and the streams stops flowing.”

“What are chakras?”

“Chakras are vast, yet confined, pools of energy in our bodies which govern our psychological qualities. There are seven chakras in all; four in our upper body, which govern our mental properties, and three in the lower body, which govern our instinctual properties. They are the Muladhara, the root chakra. The Svadhisthana, sacral chakra. The Manipura, solar plexus chakra. The Anahata, heart chakra. The Visuddhi, throat chakra. The Ajna, third eye chakra. The Sahasrara, crown chakra.” Dhatri pointed to each location on his own body.

“All of the chakras should contribute to a human's well-being. Our instincts would join forces with our feelings and thinking. Some of our chakras are usually not open all the way, some are over-active, or even near closed. If the chakras are not balanced, peace with the self cannot be achieved.”

“How do I open my chakras? How do I know when they are open?”

“It will require intense meditation and self-reflection. Understand that when you are opening your chakras, there is no need to try to make over-active chakras less active. They are simply compensating for the inactivity of closed chakras. Once all of the chakras are opened, the energy evens out, and becomes balanced. You should gain a sense being 'clean' when you are finished along with a better connection to your magic.”

“How long will this take? I'm in no rush, but I am curious.” 

Dhatri chuckled wryly. “There is no determined amount of time. It will take as long as you permit it to, Ila. You may spend more time opening a certain chakra than others. It depends on you. Each Chakra has a purpose and be blocked by a certain emotional mark or trauma. Opening the Chakra is an intense experience once you begin this process, you cannot stop until all seven are open.”

Gabriel considered the challenge and his options. If he was to achieve his goals and bring magic back into balance then he needed to be able to practice what he was going to preach. He knew he had a decent amount of control over his magic, but it was not strong enough and he still struggled to wield it consistently since he still experienced bursts of emotional and accidental magic. If he was going to stand a fighting chance at his new school then he would need better control and stronger power. Gabriel steeled himself and took a deep breath. “How do I begin?”

Dhatri led him to the bank of the creek. “I will guide through the process, Ila. We will start with the Muladhara, the root chakra.” Dhatri lifted his hand and summoned a sphere of red pulsating energy. “This chakra is based on being physically aware and feeling comfortable in many situations. If opened, you should feel well-balanced and sensible, stable and secure. You don't distrust people around you for no reason. You feel present in what is happening right now and very connected to your physical body. If it's under-active: you tend to be fearful or nervous, and easily feel unwelcome. If it's over-active: you may be materialistic and greedy. You feel as if you should be secure and are unwelcome to a change.”

“The first step, before the meditation, is to ground yourself. This means that you should connect with the ground, and feel it beneath you. To do this, stand up straight and relaxed, put your feet shoulder-width apart, and slightly bend your knees. Move your pelvis forward a little, and keep your body balanced, so that your weight is evenly distributed over the soles of your feet. Then extend your magic into the earth. Feel the energy as it supports you unconditionally. Feel the pulse of life radiate beneath your feet and reverberate back to you.”

With every word Dhatri spoke, Gabriel relaxed more and more into the magic as it ebbed and flowed from within him into the earth and back again in never ending loop. He closed his eyes and felt himself start to slip away.

“Sit down, Ila.” Dhatri spoke softly. He watched his student smoothly fall into the seated position as he slipped deeper into the currents of his magic. “Let yourself relax, still thinking about the chakra, it's meaning, and how it does or should affect your life.” 

Gabriel's breathing became deeper and slower. The magic around him became charged with static and the air took on the scent of ozone. 

“Very good, Ila. Now, concentrate on the root chakra, at the spot in between the genitals and the anus. Visualize a closed red flower. Imagine a very powerful energy radiating from it as it slowly opens showing four red petals full of energy. If the flower won't open, focus on your emotions attached to the chakra. Take all the negativity, acknowledge it and release it.” For a moment Gabriel stopped breathing and the magic spiked. “Remember to breathe, little one. Release your fear with your next exhale.” 

Gabriel gasped, eyes closed and mouth opened. Sweat started to dew on his brow as a deep red glow permeated the magic around him before settling into his skin and fading. 

“Bring yourself back to center, Ila. Find solid ground. I know you're floating and feels endless, but you are anchored. Come back to me, Ila, and open your eyes.”

Gabriel slowly opened his eyes. The amethyst darkened and shining with tears before they overflowed. He felt so raw and exposed. He felt strong arms pull him into a warm, solid chest as a hand cradled his head and he sobbed.

“Shh shh, Ila. I know that was hard. To exhume those long buried and very real fears and to face them is never pleasant. If you want to talk about it, I'm here.”

“I-I r-remember everything! The pain and abuse, feeling starved and weak. Scared of my own magic, wishing I was never born. When I thought I figured out how to survive, my world was overturned and I was forced to adapt. I thought I had friends but I only fell into a trap that was set before I was born. The betrayal, the lies and the deaths. It felt like all I knew how to do was survive.” Now he was just babbling as everything came rushing to the forefront of his mind in waves of turmoil. Dhatri just held him throughout it, letting him cry it out. It was part of the release. These emotions couldn't stay bottled up so the only reasonable thing one could do was cry.

“Rest for now, Gabriel. I will wake you soon and you will be back in your apartment at the Inn. We will continue our lessons tomorrow.” Dhatri soothed him, rocking the young man slowly.

Gabriel didn't respond, he just hiccuped and clung to his teachers robes. He was so strung out he didn't even feel himself being lifted up into those strong, safe arms.


	12. Follow Your Nose

Severus and Remus silently walked up the busy cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. Well, Severus walked at a calm pace while Remus practically stomped as he fumed in frustration. They had just left the bank after asking till they were blue in the face for information on Harry's whereabouts. The first goblin they spoke to referred then to the Potter Account Manager, Lockheart, who then took the scenic route when explaining that he could not provide any information about the missing and/or dead Potter scion. It didn't matter that they didn't want access to his account or how worried bout his well being they were, any statements referring to the Potter Estate and it's Apparent Heir have been frozen.

Remus was huffing and his eyes were flashing, the wolf was pacing under the surface desperate to find his cub. Severus gently steered the wolf out of the crowd and into a dark corner. He pushed the Remus against a wall and grasped his shoulders tight.

“You need to calm down and regain your control. I know you're as frustrated as I am, but we need to keep our heads and figure out our next move.” Severus half growled. Remus' eyes lashed amber again as Moony nearly accepted the direct challenge before his eyes squeezed shut and he breathed deeply through his nose. Slowly his fisted hands relaxed and his opened to honey irises of the man.

“I'm sorry,” Remus sighed. “I'm calm now.”

“Good. I know we didn't get much out that lead, but we do know something.”

“And what, pray tell, is that.”

“Gringotts only freeze accounts if the owners are fugitives or dead. Since Potter is no fugitive they have to assume that he is dead, but there is no body to verify that. They only have his wand as proof. However, after running in unscrupulous circles for as long as I have, one comes to understand that one little wand is hardly enough evidence of ones death. Death may be the official reason but that Lockheart seems to believe Potter is missing. Either the Goblins don't know where he is, or they're helping him.”

“Helping him!?” Remus closed his eyes and his shoulders fell. “We're never going to find him. If he has the backing of the Goblins, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he does, then we have little to no hope. There won't be a needle in this haystack to search for.”

Severus stepped back and considered the information so far. No new leads have presented themselves and they just hit a dead end with this one. He glanced back at Remus, automatically remembering everything he knew about werewolves, when an idea hit him. 

“What about his scent? Have you tried finding him that way instead.”

Remus chuckled ruefully. “Of course I did. I know the scent of fresh rain and copper anywhere. His scent was all over the forest crisscrossing paths and doubling back on itself, but it was weak. He hadn't visited the forest since a few weeks before school let out. His scent was heavier at Privet Drive and it pooled on the first floor, but I could tell he never set foot upstairs. There was a faint trail on the main street of Diagon, leading to the bank. His scent leaves the bank but it doesn't go back the way it came. It's like he left the bank but he didn't leave Diagon Alley. After that I lose him in the crowd.”

“Hmm. I think we need to report back to the Dark Lord. It's not much, but hopefully his reinforcements can do something with it.”

“Reinforcements?”

“I don't pretend to know the Dark Lords contacts. He said he was going to write a few people for their assistance. I do not know anyone crazy enough to answer him. I do know that the Dark Lord expects an update on our progress soon and since this is as far as we get on our own we should tell him immediately.”

“Very well. Would he mind my joining you? Dumbledore doesn't expect me until tomorrow evening, so I'm free.”

“I can't say. He knows we are working together and that you are actively deceiving the old goat, but he never expressed his wish to meet you. If you are to tag along you do so at your own risk, who knows who or what else He called in as reinforcements. ”

“Understood. You speak as if we are walking into a nundus den.” Remus smirked at the other man.

“You never know. Hold my arm,” Severus instructed, offering his left forearm. “I'll apparate us there since I'm linked to the wards. When you meet him remember to show him respect at least, but since you don't carry the Mark there's no reason to kiss his ass.”

That last statement surprised Remus. “Wow. You get away with speaking about him that way?”

Severus smirked. “The Dark Lord and I share a certain level of comradery and trust from years service. Not to mention I'm the mere mortal responsible for bringing him back into this world. I saw too much of the man behind the legend for there to be many secrets.”

Remus shook his head and grasped Severus' arm. When their feet hit solid ground again they were standing on familiar soapstone with a long walk ahead.

 

When the house elf announced Severus and a guest, Voldemort assumed he was bring the werewolf, Remus Lupin, for a formal report. If that was the case then he should have Sergei here as well, in order to keep all parties informed of the investigation progress. Which is why he sent the same elf with a short note and a portkey to the incubus. They couldn't afford to waste time with a formal letter delivered by owl. He had another elf prepare drinks for multiple guests and a headache potion for himself for later. Hopefully it was good news. The quiet knock echoed through the silent office.

“Enter.” Voldemort called. The door swung open on silent hinges, giving way to his longtime faithful servant and sure enough the expected Mr. Lupin.  
“Severus, welcome back. This must be the illustrious Remus Lupin I have heard so much about. Fenrir speaks of you with mixed feelings, however I remain impressed by your diligence and sense of loyalty.”

Severus stepped to the right to give the Dark Lord a complete view of their guest. Remus was the very definition of respect. He met the Dark Lords eye for a moment before he bowed at the waist with his hands folded in front of him. “You honor me, Sir. I thank you for allowing me the opportunity of reporting to you myself.”

Voldemort smirked. “Neither Fenrir, nor Severus, ever reported that you have a silver tongue, Mr. Lupin.”

Remus smiled softly. “Thank you, Sir.”

“We are waiting on one more guest before I ask for your report, gentlemen. He is one of my associates that will be providing assistance in our search for the famed Harry Potter. I warn you now, he is a centuries old Incubus and the Russian magical mafia Lord, do not disrespect him.”

Severus and Remus looked at each other for a moment, surprised. Severus breathed a suffering sigh and Remus grinned wide, showing some impressive canines, obviously remembering their previous conversation. “Very well, My Lord. We look forward to his arrival.”

Voldemort raised an amused eyebrow. “Careful Severus, your excitement is overwhelming.”

A loud knock made all three men turn to the door. It swung open before Voldemort could say anything and the impressive paradigms of Sergei followed by his son, Sasha, strode into the room. Severus and Remus stepped to one side to give them a clear path. Voldemort stood and walked around his desk to greet them.

“Lord Sergei, and young Sasha as well. Thank you for the prompt arrival on such short notice.” He said as he grasped Sergei's hand.

“I said I would help and I am a man of my word. What progress has been made?” Sergei's smooth timbre voice cut through the niceties and right to the point.

“I waited for you before receiving the news. May I introduce my loyal servant and friend, Severus Snape and his associate Remus Lupin. They are here to report their progress so far.” Both men bowed at the waist when named. “ I suggest we sit and get comfortable for this delivery. I had the elves prepare refreshments should you like something, help your selves.”

They moved to the semi-circle of furniture in front of the fire place. When they were seated Voldemort gestured to Severus to begin.”

Severus cleared his throat. “Lupin and I deduced that Mr. Potter has a soft spot for the underprivileged or unnoticed members of magical society. He apparently has friends in low places. He has made friends with various creatures of the Forbidden Forest. They protect his secrets as if he is part of their tribes and families. Since they were not forthcoming, we went to Diagon Alley. It made sense that he would have non-human friends elsewhere, and that was the only other magical location he has frequented. The first place he would have visited had to be the bank if he planned to sustain himself. We were directed to the Potter Account Manager. We asked if he knew of Mr. Potter's whereabouts as concerned friends of his. He told us that he could not provide any information about the missing and/or dead Potter scion. Any statements referring to the Potter Estate and it's Apparent Heir have been frozen. Suffice, we won't get any help from the Goblins. However, to my knowledge Gringotts only freezes accounts if the owners are fugitives or dead. Since Potter is no fugitive they have to assume that he is dead, but there is no body to verify that. They only have his wand as “proof”. Death may be the official reason but the Goblin we met seems to believe Potter is missing. Either the Goblins don't know where he is, or they're helping him.” Severus finished, reaching for a glass of water on the table. 

“Do you have any definitive proof that he was in the area?” Voldemort asked. Sergei and Sasha were silent for the moment, taking in the information.

“We do, Sir.” Remus picked up where Severus left off. “As a werewolf I have an enhanced sense of smell. I have known Harry Potter since he was born I will never forget my pups scent. I tracked him all over Hogwarts during his third year when I was a teacher there. It was easy to pick up the trail again at the muggle house. The scent was all over the first floor but it never went up the stairs. When I checked the Forbidden Forest his scent was all over the forest crisscrossing paths and doubling back on itself, but it was weak. He hadn't visited the forest since a few weeks before school let out. There was a faint trail on the main street of Diagon, leading to the bank. His scent leaves the bank but it doesn't go back the way it came. It's like he left the back but he didn't leave Diagon Alley. After that I lose him in the crowd.”

“Then that is where we should station our reinforcements.” Sergei said. His arms were crossed over his chest and his expression was focused. “ Do we have anything with his scent on it? It may help my specialists.”

“Unfortunately not, he has been very careful not to leave any physical evidence of his presence. All I have to go on is my imprinted bond to my pup. I have known the scent of fresh rain and copper for fifteen years.”

“Fresh rain and copper?” Sasha asked curiously.

“Indeed. It suits him. When he is happy he is a refreshing balm to your soul and it's contagious. But his temper exceeds his mother's famous fury. Piss that young man off and he is out for blood. I realized once that the copper reminded me of blood, but I never knew if I could smell his blood or the blood that he spilled. It's a strange thought because he always seemed to be too kind and innocent to harm anyone. I never knew him to be aggressive, emotional perhaps, but certainly not violent towards others. I'm shocked he would commit murder; not that I blame him for those muggles. They always abused him cruelly.” 

Sergei chuckled deeply. “The more I hear about this young man, the more I desire to meet him.”

Remus's eyes hardened to a dim yellow before he went on the offense. “You have an interest in my pup?”

Sergei was hardly impressed. “Simple curiosity; cross my heart.” He said with a fanged smirk. “Our esteemed Dark Lord allowed us to view the memory of that lovely crime scene you found. I am impressed that a young man of fifteen possesses not just the sadistic streak and creativity behind the act, but he also has the balls to commit to the action and follow through. He has managed to escape, travel long distances, and hide himself so well that he hasn't been seen for three damn weeks. He is smart enough to make the right allies; the kind that fake your death on paper. I want to meet the twisted niegadzai that's clever enough to slip away from Dumbledore, commit murder, fake his death, worry a werewolf, and give a Dark Lord reasons to be concerned about his war campaign before he goes into hiding four days before someone thinks to check on him. Hell I should probably recruit him after this is over.”

Sasha was smiling evilly next to his father as he ranted. His facial piercings made the expression even more disturbing than his sharp smile. “I have never seen you so discomfited, Father. I too am impressed at the level of ingenuity behind this boy's actions. I have a feeling he has found a way to hide in plain sight. If his scent never left Diagon Alley then he must have at the least rested there. He's most likely not on the main street, but the side branches would provide good cover and less foot traffic.”

“I can meet your specialists in front of the bank to point them in the right direction. I know the scent best and I can try to take them as far as I can.” Remus offered.

“Oh good.” Sasha smiled and clasped his hands together. “I can meet you bright and early, say seven?”

Remus sat back shocked. “You?”

“I am the lead tracking specialist in my father's ranks. I'm going to school to be a Hit Wizard. If your nose can't trace him, I will.”

“Sasha is very capable, I'm sure he would be a great asset to you.” Sergei said proudly.

Remus got over his surprise and nodded. “Seven it is. Thank you for your help.”

Voldemort sat forward in his chair. “Now that we have a plan, even if we don't have a solid lead, yet, I suggest we adjourn this meeting. You gentlemen have an early day tomorrow and I have a late night ahead of myself.”

“Yes, I agree. Thank you my Lord.” Severus said, standing to bow to his Lord and guests. “We must be getting back to Hogwarts. Good evening, gentlemen.”

Remus turned to Voldemort, “ As a worried pseudo – godfather, I really appreciate your concern and assistance in finding my pup. You have the gratitude of this old wolf.”

Voldemort said nothing just simply nodded. It wasn't long until the office was devoid of extra bodies. When he was surrounded by silence again he went to his desk and looked at he latest correspondence he received. Sighing, he called an elf. He was going to need that headache reliever.


	13. French Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple languages are represented in this chapter. Italian and French are taken from online translating engines. However, I am fluent in Latin.  
> I am so glad that everyone is enjoy this story and I thank you all for your patience and wonderful compliments.

Time seemed to stand to stand still and move twice as fast simultaneously for Gabriel. He enjoyed taking his time and slowing his thoughts down when he was Angel. The waitress with a loving aunt and a caring Uncle didn't have enemies plotting behind her back. She was always pleasant and relaxed because she only had one purpose; taking care of her customers. And yet, he has learned so much from his mentors in such a short amount of time. Yes, mentors, as in plural. He kept in contact with Madam Elfie since their first meeting. She had taken on the position as his official personal outfitter and tutor in all things feminine. Thanks to her, he was more confident in heels, but anything over three inches was pushing it. 

He had an appointment later in the afternoon for the second fitting of his combat robes and leather gear before they were complete. Elfie had sent most of his order as she completed every piece, but the combat gear had charms woven into them that had to settle in stages which took some time before the were considered wearable. Until then he enjoyed his new wardrobe full of casual clothes that fit and accentuated his altered body and made him feel beautiful. 

He was wearing a new arrival today. A cream colored button down blouse with a ruffled collar and three-quarter sleeves. A form-fitting chocolate leather corset-vest with three delicate gold chains detailing the sides, that capped his shoulders and lifted his breasts and showcased his waistline. Matching cream leggings made of soft velvet underneath chocolate leather shorts that stopped high on his thighs and made his legs seem longer and gave his ass a very nice silhouette. He wore his favorite two inch suede ankle boots with gold chains around his ankle. He had charmed his hair into his customary braid and threaded a gold ribbon through it to match his outfit. It was his day off from training with Dahtri, so he want to wear that showed off the body he had worked hard for.

Almost two weeks into training and he was noticing the results. Dhatri had understood the necessity of his disguise and created a workout regimen that focused on strength training without building an overly masculine physique and toned his slim features into a svelte silhouette. He recently opened his Heart Chakra and it had been breath taking. It was the first time he felt the magic that constantly surrounded everything. He almost wanted to sink into the earth and never return; it was so vast he wanted to get lost in it. But it wasn't peaceful like still water in a well. It was chaotic and powerful, so much so he would have been truly lost had he given into the temptation to connect his magic to never ending ocean. He had to learn to control how much magic he borrowed from the earth without over-draining his own. Until then he had supervised in the practice, but Dhatri was happy with his progress thus far.

Today the dinning room was crowded, loud and busy enough to keep even Rowan moving behind the bar. Angel hadn't put down her quill and note pad since the lunch hour started. As one person handling almost twenty tables at a time, she couldn't even leave the floor to run to the kitchen too often. So she had taken to charming her notes into paper doves and sent them to Cara to handle the order. When they were ready pink doves flew back to Angel with the specific order written on them. That was when Angel would rush into the kitchen and back out again with just a quick thanks and tapping heels heralding her course of action. Poor Rowan had to learn to duck out of the flight path of incoming doves after getting a couple in the ear. Although he didn't seem to mind judging by his mused smirk. Cara thought the doves were grand. Her laughter floated through the kitchens saloon doors when Angel first started using them. Whatever kept things moving smoothly and efficiently was always a good idea in their minds. 

With the increase of foot traffic comes a wider variety of acquaintances. So far, Angel has met a few veela and fea, even a feline hybrid. They always took Angel by surprise, pleasantly of course, but they were more often surprised by Angel's universal respect toward the magical races. Today, however, something dangerous walked through the door. A man with brown hair, light silver eyes and deathly pale skin sat down at one of the booth seats. 

Suddenly the mood changed and the air got heavy with a nervous energy. A few people got up and left after settling their tab at the bar. Even Rowans relaxed posture stiffened with wariness before he walked casually into the kitchen. He came back out a moment later and positioned himself near the open end of the bar, his gaze flicked between the stranger and his adopted niece, who seemingly had yet to notice the change in atmosphere. Then the stranger turn his head to watch Angel as well.

Angel felt the shift in magic immediately. A potential threat walked through the web of protection wards that permeated the entire establishment. Rowan had her keyed in when she moved into her apartment permanently and her magic instinctively connected to the wards, making her aware of the entire building. So the feel of a predator was a stark contrast to the neutral safe haven that was her new home. She didn't turn around to stare, everyone else was doing enough of that. Besides, She was fully aware of their position and intentions. When she felt the weight of his stare settle on her, she smirked. She had his attention.

She stood taller, straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin down a bit. She lifted a hand to run over her loose raid and reposition it over her left shoulder. She continued her circuit around the occupied tables and made the stranger wait. As she moved her hips swayed and her heels seemed louder in the quiet. In the midst of taking her sweet time, his eyes never left her.

Finally, Angel turned her attention to the dangerous man in the farthest booth from the door. His pale complexion made her think he was ill at first, but those eyes, light-silver with a dark halo around the iris, were too old and consuming. His smile hardly seemed to disrupt the marble of his face as Angel approached. Upon closer evaluation, she saw him for what he was. Vampire! Her mind screamed caution and her magic pulled itself inward to settle under skin, ready to defend. But her posture remained coquettish and when she found her voice she was proud to admit it did not tremble like her heart.

“Good afternoon, Sire. My name is Angel, I am the waitress here. Can I get you something from our specialty menu?”

“Angel? How appropriate.” His deep timbre vibrated through her body in the surrounding silence with a hypnotic French accent, as he looked up and down her figure. “I have never met an Angel before, as cursed as I am. However, perhaps just for today, I am truly blessed to have been graced with your benevolent regard.” 

Angel smiled and blushed, but her amethyst eyes hard gaze never faltered. “We are all cursed in some way, Sire. Perhaps I can get you something to sate your thirst for the time being.” She pulled a card from her apron pocket. “ We have a select list of fine vintages available, if you would like choose. Or I can get you today's special.”

He glanced at the card, before his right eyebrow rose as amusement seemed to flit over his features. “I am curious about the special. I suppose I shall have the caribou steak, rare, the pomodoro sangue soup and I'll let you choose the vintage,” He smiled at her. “Angel.”

Angel pocketed the Creature Comforts card and smiled. “Very good, Sire. I only have one question now.”

“Please, my dear, call me Virgil. Virgil Thorne.” He gently grasped her hand to kiss the back of it. “What is your question?”

“Very well, Monsieur Thorne.” Angel smiled. “Do you prefer your blood warm or cold?”

Virgil's smile widened to reveal a hint of sharp fangs. “Warm please, Mlle Angel.”

Angel simply nodded and left to handle the meal personally. Mentally she was thanking her forethought to read that book on etiquette among the Races. Apparently any vampire should be addressed as Sire or Dame, as their Childe would address their creator. It signified respect for their position and possibly their age as most vampires don't survive their first one hundred years.

As Angel crossed the kitchen's threshold she didn't see Cara puttering about. He wondered where she went before Rowan came in behind her.

“I told your Aunt to lock herself in the office in case things went south out there. We haven't had a vampire in here in years and the last time wasn't very pleasant. What does this one seem to want?”

“His name is Virgil Thorne, he seems to simply want a meal. I feel no ill intentions from him, so I will get his order personally. I think you can let Auntie Cara out of the bunker.” Angel laughed.

“Thorne? As in the oldest and most powerful Vampire in France?” Rowan questioned with a hint of panic to voice.

“I suppose he is. We didn't discuss power and titles. He asked for a rare caribou steak with the bloody tomato soup and he asked me to choose the blood type for him.”

“He's trusting you to know which blood type he should drink?” Rowan asked suspiciously , his eyebrow was high and his hands were on his hips.

“He only specified that it be warm .” Angel shrugged as she removed meat from the cold box.

“Dear Merlin, he likes you! You were flirting with the customers again, weren't you.”

Angel laughed so hard her shoulders shook. “I do not flirt with the customers, Uncle. He does not like me, he hardly knows me enough. Anyone would appreciate a little kindness and respect, no matter their Race or station in life.”

Rowan rolled his eyes with a sarcastic smirk. “Indeed. Only you, young lady, would dare to flirt with a vampire and manage to win his affection in ten minutes of meeting him. I swear you have some veela in you with charm like that. Perhaps your Aunt and I should send you to a safe all-girls boarding school to tame our wild child of these stunts.”

“All-girl school, huh? I would be kicked out in a week, with enough time to head to Greece as I planned. I might only have enough time there learn how to curtsy properly.” Angel laughed uproariously at her Uncle.

“That's enough cheek from you.” Rowan sighed and shook his head. “I'll go and tell your Aunt what your up to and see if she laughs.” He's almost out the door, “No more stunts, Love. I'm too old for this nonsense.”

"No promises, Uncle."

Angel was still chuckling as she prepared the soup. While the steak rested after a quick searing, Angel slipped into the cellar and headed for the back wall. Lining the shelves were small five gallon casks, each one neatly labeled and tapped. Angel dragged her fingers over the barrels, sweeping through the dust and tasting the magic within each one. Half way down the line, she stopped. This one felt powerful with a gray tinge to the magic, but there was a spark of.. something. It felt almost perfect. She brushed the dust off to read the cask properly.

Grigori Rasputin 1/21/1769 - 12/30/1916 

Well that explains the flavor of magic. She filled a goblet with the valuable blood and set it on a convenient table. She circled the goblet with her hands let her magic touch the liquid with a simple light heating charm and then she infused the real magic. “Iucundus.” The blood brightened to a rich ruby red, as if it was fresh from a vein. Now it was perfect.

Angel proudly assembled the serving tray with a serene expression. She didn't notice Cara and Rowan watching her closely. Curiously, they followed her to the doorway to watch her interaction with one of the most dangerous creatures in the wizarding world.

“I have your meal, Monsieur Thorne. I hope everything is to your satisfaction.” Angel spoke gently as she set the entree down. 

“Which vintage have you managed to procure for me, dear Angel ? Something sweet, perhaps?” Thorne purred with an alluring smile.

“No such sampling that we have would be sweet enough to satisfy your tastes. I chose something,” Angel smirked. “warmer. I hope you like it.” She winked and turned away to return to the kitchen for her other orders. 

She didn't see him dig into the meal or the expression of pure pleasure overtake his features as he thoroughly enjoyed every bite. But, someone did see. Rowan and Cara both saw the predator melt into his meal. He savored every bite and drop in front of him. They wondered what kind of ambrosia Angel served him to bring peace and pleasure to those haunting eyes. When he was finished, he stood and walked to the bar and settled his payment with Rowan without saying a word. Before he left, he stepped up behind Angel where she was cleaning a table. 

“May I have a word with you?” He whispered. Angel didn't reply but she held up a hand to indicate five minutes to Rowan. She lead him upstairs to her private apartment, completely trusting the protection of the wards.

“No one can hear us, we have complete privacy.” Angel settled on the leather sofa and gestured for her guest to sit.

“You allow me taste your magic and invite me to be alone with you. You know what I am, correct?”

“I know precisely what you are, Monsieur Thorne. I am not afraid as I have given you no reason to threaten me. You may be dangerous, but only when you have to be. Besides I am dangerous in my own right.” She leaned into the cushions and crossed her knees. “You wished to speak with me?”

“Yes.” He sat across from her in a matching leather chair. “I wished to thank you for your generous hospitality. It has been a long time since I have tasted Rasputin but there was more in that goblet. I tasted a being so pure and powerful and yet so wild. I could only assume it was you. I thought I was going to have a polite conversation with a young witch practicing white wicca. But I walked in here and my perceptions have shifted.”

“Oh really?”

“I can smell the ingredients in your potions cabinet, mercury is quite volatile, along with numerous poisons I can sense the silver in your leather wristband and hidden in your lovely corset. Are you expecting an army or do you meet dangerous creatures often? I wonder what dangerous creature invited me into her den. You're no ordinary angel, are you?” He growled.

Angel allowed her magic to bleed through her eyes causing them to reflect an inner light, much like purple moonstones. Her nails turned black and sharpened to deadly points. When she opened her mouth tiny fangs pierced her gums as he pulled her lips back in a quiet snarl.

“If you expect me to spill my secrets, I expect an oath. I don't mind telling my tale, but I choose those I allow to know it. Goddess know I need all the allies I can get, but I require real assistance learning all I can to reach my goals.” Angel growled back, foolishly challenging a being that outweighed her in every way.

Thorne leaned away in astonishment as the young beauty took on a beastly appearance. “What are you, Childe, that you hide your true nature so well? If I am to be an ally, what do I get from this deal?”

“You get to help me overthrow the current government and bring Magic out of the squalor it has fallen into. You would most likely be a main contact of mine for gathering information. However, it would be a while before I truly need your services. I require more training at this time. Now, will you swear the Oath?”

She could tell his curiosity played a large part in the decision when he agreed. “I, Virgil Thorne, do so swear on my magic, to never reveal the secrets I learn of today in any form. So mote it be.” The magic of the Oath snapped into being, indicating the verbal contract binding them.

“Thank you, Monsieur Thorne, for your cooperation. I must start with the fact that my name is not Angel, and I am not a woman. My true name is Gabriel Scelestus Black, I am in fact male.”

“You are a man? Why are you parading around as a female? I might add you make a convincing lady.” Thorne sounded rather put out.

“I have taken on this disguise to hide my true form and talents until such a time I can access my full creature inheritance. I had to be convincing in order to hide. Admittedly I did have help in the process. A lovely woman told me that the trick was to make others question their sexuality rather than my sanity. You see even as a male I am quite androgynous, so playing to those strengths was very easy and a bit of fun.”

“You mentioned training and the overturning of power?”

“I plan to receive extreme training in order to hone my skills and magic so that I can overthrow the current government and demolish the kingdom of ignorance they have built. Granted I have a little revenge planned for a select few along the way and most of them won't live to see the era to come, let alone witness it's downfall, but that is my concern alone.”

“I see. What kind of creature skills are you going to fine-tune. You're not a vampire and you don't stink of werewolf; perhaps a veela where the teeth and claws are considered, but I doubt that theory.”

“As a member of the Black line I am the last heir of a noble and rare race. I am a Fallen Angel, however, I have yet to reach my inheritance until my birthday in a couple weeks.”

Virgil Thorne suddenly felt his in-beating heart plummet in his chest as air escaped his lungs in a rush. “A Fallen Angel?!” He whispered. “For one to exist, there has to be a severe unbalance in magic. The being themselves must be pure and yet had to come from suffering in order for their body to handle the extreme levels of magic at their disposal.”

“That is correct,Monsieur Thorne.” Angel replied softly, but her voice still rang with truth.

“Mon Dieu, aie pitié de nous tous.” Thorne breathed a prayer.

Gabriel/Angel smirked cruelly, fangs and all, taking in the pure shock of the vampire before him/her.  
“Unus mortuus et clemens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian Translation  
> Pomodoro Sangue = (literally) Tomato Blood
> 
> French Translation  
> Mll = Miss  
> Monsieur = Mister  
> Mon Dieu, aie pitié de nous tous = God, have mercy on all of us
> 
> Latin Translation  
> (please understand that one word can have multiple definitions, depending on the context)  
> Iucundus = heartwarming, uplifting  
> Scelestus = criminal, wicked, sinful  
> Unus mortuus et Clemens = Only death is merciful


	14. Forget Me Not

Remus stood against the wall of a store front waiting for the son of the Russian Magical Mafia to appear. He had the perfect view of the entire main square. Gringotts was straight ahead on the other side of the fountain, the Leaky Cauldron was at the end of the left lane, Knockturn Alley joined the left lane after the potion apothecary. Talbot Lane was down the right with Gypsy Road branching off from there. He could see most of the street from his vantage point, but he wasn’t just looking for a face. He was trying to catch a scent. That one scent that continued to fade and elude him. There was a hint of it in the square, but it was too filtered to get a clear sense of direction.

The sound of apparation drew his attention to the alcove around the corner, between the buildings. Sure enough, there was the young man he was waiting for. Sasha was dressed in black leather pants, combat boots, dark red V-neck shirt under a black jacket. His auburn hair was pulled into a high pony tail, showing off his facial piercings and whiskey eyes.

“Mister Lupin,” He greeted the werewolf. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

“Not long, no. I have been trying to scout the scent further to give us a better vantage point. Unfortunately, it’s strongest where it pooled near the fountain. It gets weaker down Talbot, but it’s nonexistent in Diagon and Knockturn.”

“Have you checked Talbot yet?”

“No. I decided to wait for you rather than possibly get a false lead or worse, lose the trail completely.”

“Well, then,” Sasha smiled, white fangs and all. “Shall we?”

Remus nodded and fell into step with the young man, walking out into the throng of people. They split up to walk around the opposite sides of the fountain and rejoined at the juncture leading down Talbot Lane. Sasha quirked an eyebrow at Remus in mild confusion.

“Describe the scent for me again.”

“Spring rain and a copper scent like blood,” Remus replied.

“Ah.” Sasha nodded. “I see why there was confusion. It’s not a combination scent. What you scented is amethyst.”

“Amethyst crystals?”

“No. While amethyst crystals are one of the most powerful spiritual stones, meant for enhancing intuition and meditation, that’s not what I smell. This Amethyst is a very potent elixir from a parallel dimension. The Demon Realm. Demonic creatures such as Incubi, Succubae, Shadow Demons, even some High Vampires frequent that realm. The Amethyst elixir is a powerful lust potion that is often used in arranged marriages to ensure an heir. Some have used it as a recreational drug because of the sense of euphoria it brings on followed by extreme heat and an insatiable craving for sex. To smell it in this realm is rather disturbing.”

“Why is that disturbing?” Remus felt he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“It’s worrying for two reasons. It’s illegal to sell and transport in the human realm and it’s extremely toxic to humans. You said that your,” Sasha looked around quickly. “pup, has always smelled this way?”

“Yes. It has grown stronger since this past year. I thought it was due to puberty,” Remus shrugged. “Now you’re telling me my godson smells like an illegal demonic lust potion? Why would he smell like that all his life?”

“I’m not sure. My only guess is that someone has been trying to slowly poison him. I’m curious to meet him and see whether it’s affected him.”

“Dear Merlin. This is too much. When I find that pup of mine I’m going to throttle him for putting me through this amount of stress.” Remus shook his head, nostrils flared and eyes glowing.

Sasha smirked at the werewolf in half sympathy and half amusement. He remembers the shit he put his parents through. 

Gabriel remained sat on the leather sofa fuming, while Thorne slowly leaned away from him. They spoke about His previous life as Harry Potter and the impending shit storm that was bound to happen since he escaped the confines of Dumblefucks manipulations. That was when he learned from Thorne that no one has reported him missing or dead to the Ministry, to Dumbledore, no one. He hasn’t written a single one of his “I’m fine” letters, so someone had to have checked on things at Privet Drive. Yet the flurry of Order members roaming the alleys that he expected hadn’t occurred. Gabriel stared through the coffee table with narrowed eyes. If someone checked but never informed Dumbledore or the Order, then they informed someone else. Someone was on his trail. Thorne didn’t know who was secretly searching for Harry Potter, but he would find out. In the meantime, everyone still believed that Harry Potter was alive and well. 

“Fuck!” Gabriel swore as his magic flared and shattered the glass top of the coffee table causing the vampire on the other side to flinch. “They were supposed to go at each other’s throats. The thrice damned Light was supposed to believe I was murdered or kidnapped by Death Eaters then attack the Dark forces in revenge for killing their fucking savior! They should be tearing themselves asunder while I’m training to defeat the last man standing.”

“And just who would that be?” Thorne asked cautiously.

“Does it matter?” Gabriel sneered at the vampire. “Both moronic figure heads have had their part in ruining my life and the lives of the magical community. They are the bloody reasons that magic herself is out of balance. She has all but abandoned the entirety of the British Iles because one power hungry teenager had to fuck over Death while the old coot isn’t willing to have anyone more powerful than himself walking this side of the Veil. I have been dealt this damned inheritance because of them. Without their influence there would have been peace and balance after Grindlewald was defeated. As far as I’m concerned they both are at fault and should be brought to justice for their crimes and their assault on the laws of Magic.”

“And yet you hold no personal vendetta against them?” Thorne’s voice cut through Gabriel’s fury.

“Of course, I do,” Gabriel admitted as the proverbial hot lead ball of anger settled in his stomach. “But I am a Black Fallen Angel. I don’t hold sway over the laws of man or magic. No matter what they did to me to cause my creation, I am not judge or jury. I am only Magic’s hired executioner. I don’t decide their punishment. I simply administer it.”

“I see.” Thorne noted to never anger this powerful being. 

“I need to get back to the dining room, I have been gone too long as it is.” Gabriel calmed down, shifting his appearance from animalistic to innocent beauty again. “Do you know how to perform a Patronus charm?”

“Yes.” Thorne nodded as he stood and straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair.

“Good. After you have found the information I need and have fed, contact me that way.”

“Very well. Thank you for confiding in me even though I’m sure you didn’t mean to confide so much. Who knew a sexy Angel can swear like a pissed off Goblin.” He smirked.

Gabriel smirked right back at him. “Careful. I might taint your next drink with a sexually transmitted disease.”

The vampire chuckled as he walked towards the door. “I dare you to try, Mon Ange.”

Down in the street, Remus and Sasha were struggling to follow the scent. It would come and go the further they went. It was like they would catch it one moment and the next it was gone again. 

“I’m beginning to think he hasn’t come this way in a long while. It’s so faint.” Remus said.

“I understand your frustration. I have never had this problem following a scent trail. Hell, I can’t even call it a legitimate trail.” Sasha sighed.

“Perhaps we should stop and regroup. I feel like we are chasing our tails. No pun intended.” Remus smirked wryly.

“Alright,” Sasha sighed. “Where do you suggest we regroup? I’m not very familiar with the area.”

“I know a place.” Remus pointed up the street. “The Hole in The Wall. It’s like the Leaky Cauldron that it has apartments for rent and meal service. However, they are more inclusive of their clientele. Humans and creatures alike are welcome whether they’re dark, light or gray. It’s run by good people and they make a fantastic shepherd’s pie.”

Sasha nodded, and his piercings glittered in the sunlight. “Sounds good.”

“Come on then” Remus lead the way and soon enough the scent of delicious food was wafting through the air around an unassuming building with a red brick front and a below-street access door. Sasha stuck close to the werewolf in this unfamiliar place with outrageous stereotypes and prejudice. He can take care of himself, sure. But it helped to have an ally around. Sasha stood back and surveyed the rooms patrons as Remus greeted a man with brown hair and eyes and a muscular build standing behind the bar. When a pregnant woman appeared in the assumed kitchen door way, Remus was struck silent, until she waddled her way around the bar to give him a warm hug. 

“My stars! When did this happen?” Remus laughed.

“Oh, about seven-odd months ago. We had some fun and now I’m a girl in trouble.” Cara laughed with him.

“I told her not to eat the watermelon seeds, but she didn’t listen.” Rowan joked from behind her.

“Well congratulations, both of you. Let me introduce you to a new friend and colleague of mine.” Remus placed a hand on Sasha’s shoulder and pulled him forward. “This is Sasha Raisa. We recently started working together and our first assignment has been eluding us. So, we stopped by to fill our bellies and regroup our leads. Sasha, this is Cara and Rowan Amunet, the owners and hosts of this wonderful place.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.” Cara said, smiling as she shook the incubus’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am. Congratulations, again.” He said softly in his Russian accent.

“Thank you very much.” Cara placed a hand on her belly and looked at Remus again. “I take it you will want your usual, Remus?”

“You know me too well, Cara. Although, would you mind making a second serving for my young friend?” 

“I suppose I can be troubled enough to manage it. Go have a seat and I have it out in a bit.” Cara sent them to a table and headed for the kitchen. 

Five minutes later Rowan came in and warded the door from prying eyes and ears. “They are searching for him.” Rowan said quietly as he leaned into his wife’s side and wrapped an arm around her slight shoulders.

Cara didn’t look up from mincing vegetables, she simply smiled. “I know, luv. That’s why you are going to head upstairs and warn our Angel. She can either stay up there until they leave, or she can come down and spin her magic. It’s her choice, but I think I know what she will do.”

“I don’t think I like the friends our Angel is making. She was alone with a vampire for over an hour, Cara!” He stressed. “He just left not even twenty minutes ago, and she has yet to come back down. Now a werewolf and an incubus are on her tail. What’s next?!”

“The wards would have protected her from serious harm, Luv. You should still go upstairs, check on her and warn her, but let her make the decision and make her mistakes. We are her safety net, not her keepers.”

“I know,” Rowan sighed and leaned his head against Cara’s and kissed her hair. “I just worry. It’s like Angel has become our first-born child and she has only been with us for three weeks. In my mind that translates into her being three weeks old. Let’s face it, my dear. Your godson has become the niece/ daughter we weren’t expecting to fall in love with.”

“He really has. I didn’t expect such a drastic transformation when he left the inn that morning, but it suits him. He really seems happy and I don’t like him facing the dangers that he has to anymore than you do. But that’s part of our jobs as parent’s; love and worry. Consider it practice, darling”

Rowan smiled and kissed Cara one more time before he left the kitchen. Upon reaching Angel’s floor he could sense the steady hum of wild magic. His concern grew as he rushed to the end of the hall. He pressed his hand to the hidden door and he had to force it to accept him. He frowned deeply; that shouldn’t happen. As the owner and holder of the wards he shouldn’t have to force the magic to obey him. He listened for signs of life or distress, but he only heard a quiet voice cussing a blue streak from the sitting room. Rowan walked through the hall that connected the kitchen and the sitting room and stopping at the edge of the carpet to lean against the wall. He watched as Angel, in all her feminine charisma, repaired the shattered glass coffee table with a simple gesture. 

“Do I even want to know?” Rowan said in a monotone drawl. 

Angel glanced up at him and smirked sardonically. “I lost my control for a moment when I learned some information. Master Dhatri won’t be pleased when he finds out. I’ll be doing drills for at least a week.”

Rowan eyebrow raised in curiosity. “What did you learn that caused you lose your control?”

Angel sighed with frustration and sat heavily on the sofa. “Before I came here I had tried to make it appear to the Light forces that Harry Potter was dead or kidnapped by Death Eaters. They were supposed to launch a revenge attack that would kick start the fighting between the Light and Dark. I planned to train while they duked it out so that I was ready to deal with the last one standing while they were weak in magic and resources. I found out that no one has suspicions about Harry Potter’s wellbeing. They still believe that he is alive and well with his fucking family.” Angel spat at the reminder of those damned muggles. “Someone found what I had done and had to have covered it up. Someone is on my trail.”

Rowan smirked at his adopted niece. “I’ll say you got someone on your trail. A werewolf and an incubus to be exact.”

“What?” Angel looked up at Rowan, shell-shocked.

“Remus Lupin and a young incubus, Sasha Raisa. They’re working together to find Harry Potter. They didn’t say as much, but it’s not hard to figure out that Remus if looking for you. That wolf has loved you since you were born. You are the cub he never had. My guess is that they are trying to track you by scent. They are downstairs right now.”

“Shit! Remus? He must be the one that went to Privet Drive, and he’s probably working for Dumbledore to find me.” Angel swore and leaned back against the cushions.

“Possibly.” Rowan nodded. “And I know that name, Raisa. It’s the name of the Russian magical mafia Lord. Sasha is his son and a key enforcer in his ranks and he’s not even done with school yet. He’s not to be underestimated.”

“They already found me!” Angel whispered.

“I’m not so sure about that, Luv. They seem to be running in circles at the moment. Apparently whatever trail they’re following isn’t very solid. They may not know you’re here at all. I came up here to warn you about their presence. You can either stay up here where they won’t catch your scent since the wards prevent all forms of traceability, or you can come downstairs. I won’t hold you up here. It’s your decision.”

“I can’t stay up here. Someone might notice something is up and say something. It’s better to act normal and keep to the routine of playing the sweet and innocent waitress that our regulars are used to.” Mind made up, Angel stood tall and headed for the bedroom. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be right down.”

“What are you going to do?” Rowan was intrigued. 

“The entire dinning room saw me come up here with a handsome vampire. I’m just going to validate their assumptions.” Angel’s muffled voice floated through the door.

Rowan laughed slightly. “And how is that going to mask your scent?”

“I have been up here for over and hour Uncle Rowan. Surely your imagination can fill in the blanks,” Angel laughed.

“Fair enough. I’ll see you downstairs and please be careful.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

Rowan left the small apartment, smiling at his charges antics. He was still nervous but at the same time he was looking forward to watching their Angel work her magic, as Cara called it. Whether he was portraying male or female, it didn’t matter, that beautiful being could charm anyone. It was like he was part siren or something. Rowan slipped back into the dinning room and took up his position as sentry behind the bar and simply waited.

It didn’t take long before he heard the familiar sound of heeled boots echoed in the stairway. Angel appeared in the doorway leaning with one hand on the rail and other resting on her hip. Her hair was misplaced, and her collar was unbuttoned a bit to reveal pink lesions lining the right side of her neck. She looked like she had just gone a few rounds with a troll. A strong, sweaty musk wafted from her as she passed Rowan to get her customary apron. He realized that she smelled like she had sex, the hot and sweaty kind, and had rolled out of bed. If that didn’t make the gossip mongers choke on their spit, then nothing would. It worked, if the stares and deep blushes that were divvied around the room were anything to go by.

Soon enough Cara sent a paper dove out and shortly after Angel was laden with a tray of hot shepherd’s pie and she was headed straight for the danger zone. Her head was held high and her hips swayed gently with each step as she expertly swerved around tables and their patrons. Cara quietly joined her husband behind the bar and they steeled themselves as they were forced to watch how this played out.

Remus and Sasha sat quietly in a booth trading pleasantries and kept to light conversation as they waited for their meal. The atmosphere was warm and inviting and Sasha found himself getting comfortable as Remus told him more about his godson. It was necessary information in order to recognize the boy when they found him such as height, stature, features, personal quirks and the like. He had to know the boy if he spotted him and Remus wasn’t around.Then he heard heels on hardwood, footsteps that got louder and closer. Sasha looked up and felt the air rush from his lungs. Remus stopped talking and followed his companions gaze and promptly smiled with sudden understanding.

Sasha was struck stupid. The long, black as sin, braid that swung over a petite shoulder. Pouty wine-red painted lips. Peaches and cream complexion and a blush on those high cheekbones. Strange violet eyes that pierced your soul. Complete with curves that went on for days and long legs encased in knee-high heeled boots that seemed to dance around the obstacles in the room. Each step was like watching a graceful doe as those round hips swayed and suddenly he felt hypnotized. And then there she was, in front of their table. 

“Good evening gentlemen,” her voice was soft and a bit husky. “My name is Angel and I am the waitress here. I have your meals fresh from the oven.” 

Angel. Dear Gods, it was a perfect name for her.

Remus smirked at young man across from him. Shaking his head, he answered the young woman for the both of them. “Thank you, my dear. Forgive my friend for his silence; he’s foreign.”

“Oh. Where is he from? He certainly looks exotic.” Angel smiled coquettishly and glanced into those whiskey eyes.

“Russia. Normally he’s rather talkative.” Remus smiled ruefully.

“Ah; the strong, silent type around the ladies.” 

She leaned in again to set down the second entrée and that’s when Sasha saw the fresh lesions lining her jugular. He caught the musk of sweat and sex. She called to him. Looking at this tempting creature with that body, those lips and smelling like a brothel made his tight leather pants unbearable. He wanted her, there and now as she stood with a hip cocked and a playful smile.

“Oh, I forgot refreshments. Can I you gentlemen anything to drink?” She blushed prettily.

“Just two waters for now, please.” Remus requested. 

“Certainly. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Angel said and promptly turned on a heel and walked to the kitchen as her gait held those demonic eyes the whole way.

Remus looked from those same hips to that slack jaw and smirked. “Well she certainly seems to like you too.”

“What?” Sasha choked as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I may be just an old wolf, but I definitely caught THAT scent.” Remus laughed heartily. 

Sasha said nothing as he slowly dug into his food. He was trying to reign in his instincts before he did something he would regret.

Cara smirked and nodded as she tapped her husbands arm. “See dear? She can handle herself just fine.”

Rowan just stood there stock still and tried to get the image of their little girl practically serving herself on a silver platter out of his mind. “I need a drink.” His wife laughed at him as she left him for the kitchen again.

Cara found Angel pouring water from the crystal decanter into two glasses. After they were filled she held her hands over each one as the water inside turned an opaque purple and then faded till it was crystal clear again. 

“What are you doing, dear?” Cara asked.

“I’m going to make sure these men don’t return. They will leave happy and content with their experience, but they won’t remember where this place is and, most importantly, they won’t remember me.” Angel said softly. Her hooded eyes were cold and determined.

Cara sighed heavily. She hated seeing the boy that became her niece lose someone like Remus in his life. Even if it necessary for her safety. “Is it temporary?”

“It will last the next two months. That’s enough time for me to leave and settle into school.”

“What about when your inheritance arrives? It’s only a few days away.”

“Dhatri and I have that covered.” Angel said and picked up the glasses. “I better get these out there. I think I’ve had about enough flirting for one day. I’m looking forward to relaxing this evening.”

“Your Uncle will be happy to hear that his little girl is done flirting. He needs a break before he turns gray on me.” Cara joked.

“We can’t allow that to happen.” Angel chuckled.

Later on, Remus and Sasha paid their tab and left the inn. Neither noticed that their memory of the inn and the sexy waitress faded from their minds as they walked further and further away. If a certain angel sadly watched the last connection to her past life leave, then that was no one else’s concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translation:  
> Mon Ange = My Angel


	15. A Gift from Magic

Gabriel spent several hours sitting in a lotus position, meditating and immersing himself in the surrounding wild magic of the forest. Master Dhatri walked along the clearing's edge tracing ward runes into the earth with his staff. As he etched every link in the chain, Dhatri could feel the hum of energy get stronger. He momentarily glanced to his student to find he hadn't moved since he sat down thirty minutes ago. However, gold energy briefly shimmered over Gabriel's skin and the longer he meditated, the stronger the glow.

Dhatri often found himself pondering about his student. His thoughts flitted between wondering how on earth he found him, amazement at his capabilities, and sympathy for the heavy burden of responsibility that rested on such narrow shoulders and the deep-rooted pain in his too young heart. No matter the pattern his thoughts meandered in, he always circled back to feeling proud that this young, damaged, and powerful soul chose to entrust his education and the betterment of his magic to him, an absolute stranger in the beginning.

Tonight they were within their normal clearing that they used for training sessions for the last two months. It was a clear and crisp night, shrouded in completed darkness since it was a new moon. It was rapidly approaching midnight on July 31st and they were preparing for a powerful influx of magic. Come midnight, Gabriel would be struck with the full strength of the power that came with being a Black Fallen Angel; a creature that was born of tragedy and blood, raised with heartache and pain, only to prove himself worthy to be a champion of the Great Mother and her consort, the Horned God. 

Upon his coming of age, he will receive his full inheritance that his body slowly developed to accept for these last few weeks beforehand, complete with a final permanent creature transformation. It was a lengthy and painful process -during which the insurgence of magic could kill him- that required the Angel to fully rely on the Mother's and Horned God's magics to guide them through it. That's what Gabriel was doing now. He is entrusting himself to the ones he called Mother and Father of his magic and allowing them complete access to his body, soul and magic.

As Dhatri traced the last rune, the protective wards that hid them slammed into place and locked them behind a purplish domed shield. It would hide their signatures and absorb the possible backlash of magic from the world outside it. Otherwise Gabriel's inheritance would have acted like a beacon to those looking for him. Dhatri could only watch his charge from the inside edge of the shield and guard him from outside threats while he was fully immersed in the magic.

As for Gabriel, he was lost in his senses. He felt the pulsating rhythm of vibrations buffeting against his body. He could hear an echoing hum in the air. The taste of rose water was on his tongue, but every few breaths he would catch the faint scent of ozone. At first he was nothing but the flashes of color that he was used to seeing when he meditated. But as he sank into the magic even deeper, the colors became a solitary vibrant gold hue that flowed around his body and held him aloft, floating in an altered state of being. He didn't project emotions, he simply absorbed the intangible energy that surrounded him. There were moments of total peace, others of absolute chaos, that threatened to overwhelm him and drown him in insanity and despair; but he remained on coarse.   
He floated for what felt like an eternity, just laying in the magic, until he felt a solid presence brush against him. It Started as a light, gentle touch and grew to fully engulf him. It felt like strong arms were lifting him from the magic waters to hold him in a tight, safe embrace. He didn't dare open his eyes for fear of losing contact with such comfort in all the chaos. Two voices filled his mind, chuckling softly. One was deep and smooth, while the other light and airy. Together they blended and complimented each other, like singing in harmony.

“You chose this one well, Cate.” The deep voice rumbled. Gabriel felt it throughout his whole body and it made him want to curl into what had to be a warm, strong chest. “A fine child indeed. He is strong in body and mind, yet he is as delicate as his feminine counterpart.”

“He is a perfect representation of us both, my love.” The second voice crooned as a warm, delicate hand carded through Gabriel's dark locks. “Masculine strength and power that is finely tuned with feminine compassion and beauty; a perfect blend. He will be a powerful being to contend with when his training is complete.”

“But first..” Something soft pressed onto Gabriel's forehead. “Come my child, open your eyes and look upon your Mother and Father. There's no need to be nervous.” The deep voice whispered to Gabriel.

Gabriel steeled himself with a deep breath and slowly peeked through his eyelashes. At first he could only see blurry shapes and colors, but his vision quickly cleared to reveal a pair faces staring back at him. A handsome man and a beautiful woman. Both with bronzed skin and long chocolate brown hair. The man had a rugged beard framing thin lips, a straight nose and a pair of mossy green eyes. He wore a wreath of oak and maple leaves as a crown. The woman had a heart shaped face with dainty lips and nose. Her eyes were a light amethyst and reminded Gabriel of moonstones. Her hair glittered with specks of light like stars and she had a small tiara that looked like it was made of stars and pearls. They were both naked as they cradled an equally naked Gabriel between themselves. 

He noticed that they were staring at him like he was the most precious creation since the sun and moon. He felt it. Their absolute, perfect Love for him. It was so astonishing that anyone could feel such unbridled emotion towards him. He didn't realize that he had tears running down his face until a hand was wiping them away.

“Shh, Little One. I understand you are overwhelmed right now.” The woman spoke softly. “I am Hecate, your Mother. This is Herne, your Father. We are your creators.”

“Mother, - Father?” Gabriel stuttered with confusion. He already had a mother and father.

“We are your true parents, child. We had to leave you in the mortal realm until you were grown and mature enough to take on the burdens destined for you.” The man, Herne, said. “If you would have remained with us, you would have been our babe for eternity. Your deserved the chance to grow into your heritage. I must say, you have grown well, especially these last few months. You took after your Mother in so many ways.” He said with a loving smile.

“He still took after your wild nature, my love.” Hecate smirked.

“But he has your charm,” Herne smiled.

Hecate laughed at him. “I think you will find he is most your son when his passions rise. But enough of this debate, no matter how much I love it. We can't keep him here long.” They both sobered at the reminder.

“Why can't I stay?” Gabriel didn't want to give up this warmth and love. Reality was cold and cruel with very little reward. Why should he want to go back to that.

“Oh my child,” Hecate cooed and kissed his face again. “You are still mortal and you must meet your destiny head on. You are our Champion, the defender of Magic. You will bring balance to the world and you are going to serve as the reminder that magic is a gift, not a right, and we can take it away. You must finish your training before that can happen though.”

“Yes, you're not quite ready to take on the world. We are going to help you by giving you your inheritance. Your final metamorphosis, if you will. Later you will receive more access to the many types of magic but for now you will gain your full abilities. You will be transformed and, yes, it is quite painful. That is why we are both here for you. When we are done you will be sent back to the mortal plane, but you will always be able to commune with us and we are always watching you.”

Gabriel sighed at the reminder of his burden of a destiny. He didn't want to be responsible for the entire world that was too foolish to recognize the gift that is their magic and life force. He had already been a victim of their atrocities and he had just clawed his way out of one man's manipulations. But, his Mother and Father still needed him. They created him in order to help their creation that is magic to survive; despite those undeserving of their consideration. “I understand.”

Hecate and Herne smiled down at their precious child proudly. They both gave him a hug and kisses before their gazes met seriously over him. “You better hold on to him tightly, Herne. I don't want to do too much harm to our child.” Hecate warned as she stepped away from them

“I will keep him perfectly still.” Herne said. He looked down at Gabriel and moved him so that he was settled against the broad chest. “This will hurt, child, but you can't move while your Mother works.” He lifted a bowl of liquid gold. “Drink the ambrosia, little one. It will help the strain on your body and temporarily immobilize you as it opens the pathways for your magic. I will support you the whole time.”

Gabriel hesitantly drank down the warm liquid; it tasted like rose water. He immediately felt limp and helpless as a babe, but his Father's hold never faltered. He remained tucked under Herne's chin, chest to chest, straddling his lap with his arms over strong shoulders and his back was completely vulnerable to whatever operation his Mother was about to perform on him.

He didn't see the long, gold hilted, ritual knife that Hecate conjured. He didn't see her slice her own palm or Herne's. He felt them smear something warm and wet over his back. It was quickly followed by a sharp pain between his shoulders that felt like something was bulging underneath his skin. It throbbed and bubbled, irritating his skin, turning it bright red. He was crying rivers that soaked Herne's skin and he whimpered from the pain. He could move away from it though. Suddenly the pain intensified and his vision went white.

Hecate had used the athame to slice open her child's back in two places, right over his shoulders. As soon as the skin was open two bloody appendages burst through. Black and dripping red blood and tissue. With gentle hands, Hecate guided them out and laid them flat against Gabriel's back as he sobbed. They limply hung there, as Hecate healed the incisions and soothed the burning muscles. 

She carefully cleaned, dried and preened the brand new iridescent black feathers. They were beautiful. Perfect pitch black that soaked up the surrounding light and glittered with opalescent greens, blues and purples. They were considered a gift from Magic for the sacrifices made.  
Gabriel shivered from the raw feeling he was left with after the ordeal and his new wings shivered with him.

“You did so well, child.” Herne murmured in Gabriel's ear. “The worst is over now. You have such beautiful wings, little one.” He continued to whisper words of comfort as he pet Gabriel's hair and face.

“I'm almost done.” Hecate said quietly as she moved around them. She hated hurting her child, but it was necessary. She touched his body and drew his magic to the surface with her own. Parts of his body shifted with the magic. His fingernails sharpened to claws and became black and hard as diamonds. They were meant to pull the magic and souls from organic structures. His upper and lower incisors lengthened to form sharp fangs, for feeding and defense. Much like vampires, he will require sustenance from other magical sources, but he will feed on their magic instead of blood . His pretty amethyst eyes darkened to black, soul-less, mirrors. Runes swirled over his pale skin, inked in black and reflecting shards of green, blue and purple like his wings. The runes bridged the gaps between the body, soul and magic, creating a being that was wholly in tune with their own magic and the ambient magic surrounding him. He was a Child of Magic. A black Fallen Angel. 

Gabriel felt raw and exposed as his magic burned through his veins. He open his eyes and found that his vision had changed. Everything was a myriad of swirling colors and vague shapes. He realized that he was seeing with aura sight. He had to close his eyes when the psychedelic colors started making him queasy. His back hurt like hell. He want to curl up and hide from the pain, but at the same time he was afraid to move and jar the muscles. All he could do was tuck his face into a warm chest and ignore the world for a bit longer.

Hecate and Herne watched him closely and smiled at their child's antics. He didn't know that his eyes were completely black and would remain so until he returned to the mortal plane. He seemed quite discombobulated with his new view. Otherwise he remained still after the ambrosia had worn off and took full advantage of the safety he found in Herne's embrace.

“Oh, sweetheart.”Hecate whispered as she pet Gabriel's hair. “You did so well and now your inheritance is complete. I'm sorry I had to hurt you. I hope you can eventually forgive me.”

Gabriel liked the petting and, unbeknownst to him, he started to nuzzle her hand and purr from the comfort.

Herne chuckled lightly. “I forgot about that side effect. He will have to learn to control that animal magnetism of his.” He nuzzled into Gabriel's hair smelling the slight ozone from the use of magic.

“I think it's adorable. He will everyone wrapped around his finger” Hecate said slyly.

“Yes, whether they like it or not.” Herne smirked at his lover.

After a few minutes it became obvious that Gabriel had slipped into a deep sleep due to the amount of strain that his body and magic underwent. They may not have been able to say goodbye, but that not what this was. He would always be capable of reaching them when he needed to. They would never abandon their child, let alone say goodbye for good. They cuddled him between themselves as his magic settled. He would wake on the other plane within his new body. But for now he was safe in this cocoon of warmth, love and magic.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fanfiction so please be gentle. I welcome reviews and critisism with an open mind.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Black Fallen Angel Cover](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16621424) by [Levinson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levinson/pseuds/Levinson)




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